Little Boy | A Glimpse
I want to find other words to explain to you
how memory weighs on me
the contour of skin over cheeks,
puffing out like the sweetest apples
under deep blue eyes
where you hold me still, unable to move
backward or forward because I
don’t want to lose you again.
So I stay arrested, a willing captive because
I can hear your voice,
your questions that make me feel
unqualified and yet determined
especially the one I have for you
—will you come back to me as more than
memory at the end of the world.