me, poetry

To Loui, the eight year old with a precocious crush

1. She was in the older class

maybe middle school

she knew how to multiply

and divide

and you were still stuck on adding

2. The other kids

call you

“The Lover”

Giggled

Love

can be very funny

You took the teasing like a man

said

“it’s no big deal I just say hi to her everytime I see her at recess and she ignores me”

and I’ve seen you

running around

throwing bean bags, catching frisbees, laughing

you play

you just don’t got play

3. She is always reading

on the grass

on the slide

in the jungle gym reading

You got into an argument with a kid over religion

He told you that you were going to Hades

I think he meant Hell

You don’t believe in God

compared it to the Tooth Fairy

You like evolution

slowly changing

adapting

until suddenly

you are entirely different;

it’s a lot like growing up; ain’t it

4. You are eight

she is ten

together that’s eighteen

I am eighteen

God,  I am old

I can multiply

and divide

and add

but lately it just feels like subtracting

a countdown

until I am done

Damn, I am old

5. When you’re eighteen,

I wonder if you’ll remember her

how her nose

was always buried in a book

instead of in your chest

How your hands used to wrap around

clumps of dirt

instead of her side

When you’re eighteen

I wonder if you’ll remember her

I wonder how many loves

I’ve forgotten

like the jump rope rhymes

she’s still skipping to

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