Six

(A poem about kindergarten that I wrote five years ago, when I was 17. Forgive the cheesiness, but this has to be on my blog.)

Boxed up inside the walls of clumsy

artwork, we were free. Dreamers

on the green carpet, like lovers

in a public park we held hands,

stained – a confetti of crayons

and watercolor on our palms.

My heart jolted like it did that summer

afternoon when the swings went too high

and the wind whipped against

my sunburnt skin.

Laughter poured from your lips everytime

I cracked borrowed jokes, thinking

they would fill up your gap-toothed smile.

Like the puzzles we pieced together,

the alphabet sung backwards,

I did not understand

why I slowly fell to earth

like a silent paper plane crash

when the time came to say goodbye.

Now that I’ve sat on more desks

than I can count, Love, I wish

it was as easy as keeping our words

inside the red and blue lines.

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