him and all his glory
A/N: another list poem. Enjoy!
I. No one has ever called him beautiful.
No one ever will.
If I do, will he believe me?
II. His hair is the golden rod pollen and hay.
It falls over his eyes like a curtain.
I think- but no.
III. Tight shirts and baggy jeans
when on the bus
and his air swaying. Gently.
IV. An Apollo god
marble statue, blue blue eyes
the blue of a summer day violet.
V. If or when,
on the bus, he turns to talk to me-
unable to control watching his lips.
VI. Obscenities tripping from his lips
It's worse when he broods silently
and lets his anger insult you.
VII. I've never seen him on a skateboard
but I imagine
must be like wind. Or thunder.
VIII. He slips the earphones over his head and
closes his eyes, sleeping to the music of metal guitars
and the ink on his skin seeps into his blood.
IX. I do not know his name,
he does not know mine. I don't think either
of us have touched each other's lives. Conversation?
X. Dappled in shadow,
sunlight tipped in his hair.
He is shaded by the open doorway.
A/N: Another boy on my bus who just catches my eye. He's a skater. And a rather pretty one.