Different Girl, Different Time

I made a game out of chasing the sun

in another pair of scorching eyes.

Your eyes remind me of trees.

The glinting sparks rising up

from those brown barks,

daring me: play with fire, babe.

I’ll forever be your Mr. James Dean.

You took my hand in yours,

engulfing my focus,

all about you.

I wanted roots,

intwined in a farytale

feeling home.


You gaze gave

false security.

I took gladly.

One day, you met me

fearfully as a child pleads

his mother: can I go, please?

Please, Please?

Our lips were sealed,

a kiss inches away.

I couldn’t tell you:

You’ve already consented yourself

permission to fly.

I was the fool

believing you would never

become my so yesterday.


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