He Wrote His Name Across His Shoulders

I don’t know what to do because I am in love. It’s seeping into my veins. I don’t know what this boy is going to do. Laid back, chilled and calm, It’s a sight when he rolls back. If this is the last chance I have to dance, would you like to write a love song or poem? It’s too easy. Because he secretly knew it was him. That he looked like and was as young as he might have been. 

Going around and turning everything into a concept:  Varsity. See, it’s a concept. But it’s a boy who is tall and thin with a mismatched cap and pants blowing in the wind. He scratches his head. Wind blowing across the the shirt that covers his chest. his chest. His flesh sneaks out. He won’t take off his clothes to go swim in the water. He reaches and stretches. Holding his chest like it’s cold outside, but it is hot. I was excited when that ripple of air revealed that part of him he sought to conceal: It was a miracle.


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