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.
Now,
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.
-HG
