Sweet sixteen was
never so sweet,
seventeen and eighteen
(k)no(w) better.
Nineteen was
swallowed by
bitter pills,
passing the days
in fake sunlight.
Twenty was here
and you were there,
waiting so patiently
for me.
You beckoned me forth
into your warmth
and my fears almost
consumed us.

As late as you were,
and certainly
tempus fugit
my love,
your white-rabbit sensibilities
and whispered promises
made me ache
for the ruffles and lace
of things I cannot confess.

Bite my lips, dear
and drown us in tears
to cross the ocean
between us.
I will find a way,
for that fateful day
for twenty-one is yours
and onwards.