Fragile finger tips
That dip into you.
Dewy eyes because he's sleep deprived.
Filled with helium,
He floats up to the ceiling when he laughs - with a sharp exhale through the nose.
Easily deflated,
But not replaced.
Boy, oh boy
What I would give
To gingerly caress
That bearded face.
That face of a boy,
Hidden behind hair and glass and others' expectations.
He is the end of a candle wick,
Unexpected and satisfying
He escapes in a spiral of smoke.
But I know his presence
by his smell.
(And cling to it when he vanishes.)
It clings to your clothes.
I inhale until my nostrils chaffe.
Linger and let linger.
It's light for him to be
And heavy when he is not.
But he is just a boy staying up past his bedtime.
A boy to whom my servitude belongs.
A boy in the shoes of the man he is becoming.
A boy in the midst of a growth spurt,
I kid you not
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Fragile finger tips
That dip into you.
Dewy eyes because he's sleep deprived.
Filled with helium,
He floats up to the ceiling when he laughs - with a sharp exhale through the nose.
Easily deflated,
But not replaced.
Boy, oh boy
What I would give
To gingerly caress
That bearded face.
That face of a boy,
Hidden behind hair and glass and others' expectations.
He is the end of a candle wick,
Unexpected and satisfying
He escapes in a spiral of smoke.
But I know his presence
by his smell.
(And cling to it when he vanishes.)
It clings to your clothes.
I inhale until my nostrils chaffe.
Linger and let linger.
It's light for him to be
And heavy when he is not.
But he is just a boy staying up past his bedtime.
A boy to whom my servitude belongs.
A boy in the shoes of the man he is becoming.
A boy in the midst of a growth spurt,
I kid you not
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