Your dark eyes

and tousled, long, dark hair

always drew me in

and you smelled

like chrysanthemum

and exotic spiced.


I, who was just a boy,

didn’t know your charms

were not intended

for my kind,

but yet you shared them.


Adept fingers touched

and drew me out

and I fumbled enthusiastically,

which made you laugh;

a lilting songbird,

holding no malice.


Never did I guess

the act would change me

and maybe it did not.

Maybe I just fell into

the body of a man

in the way

all men should be.


Your scarves and early winter coat

were warm and brown and red.

Your pale hat and gloves

sequestered you from November’s palm.

You stepped out of my doorway,

only a kiss that lingered

and I could still smell you

for a while after.



only a memory of olive skin

and my own pale inexperience,

but a gentle scrap of velvet memory

amongst shards of shattered dreams

and burned down hopes.


Wherever life has you,

I pray you still smile

like you did

and laugh

without a hint of vengeance

in your soul.




Leave a Reply