Winged, now

Butterflies on que

that’s how you come to me now,

with the music up

full blast your seal-like laugh.

Remember you on one knee

reciting poetry to the girl

with citrine eyes.

Now, I run towards you.

Reaching out to grasp at the ghost 

an invisible disease.

How much for these teeth?

How much for these teeth?

I cannot afford them now.

Now, winged your dentin exalted.

I am reaching out to save what

is left of  your reputation what became

of you was not the way I remember 

you.       

             At night reaching down from your 

             bunk bed to pop the small pockets of air           

             from between my toes just because. 

            A gesture all our own.