Lose myself in fantasy when being in the now is so important?
Do I even have a choice?
There wasn't one, but three.
The tall one, the one with long hair, and the one who called me dumb.
I kissed the one with long hair.
We shared home room, Terry and I.
Her eyes were warm and green,
A perfect pair to go with her soft voice.
Melted my heart. Told me I made her nervous
In a good way.
Said that she'd never let anyone see her poetry before.
Better than mine, that's for sure.
Her words; whispered in my ear in the backyard, whispered in spiral notebooks, whispered in the darkness of the park;
Her eyes; spring leaves at play in a northern wood.
Her hands; bringing life to the piano on stage after class, taking my breath after sundown on a school night.
Her words; receding, fading, hiding behind the years;