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  • Writer's picturetheplantnews


Adrian Cerone


In your hair, pressed curls falling flat against your back, i see a ringing laugh, clear as day in my head

In the waving finger wagging at me

I see you lunge across a table into a small and narrow mind, the only wrinkle on your supple skin is the crease between your furrowed brows

In your smile I see a missing tooth, your head down in shame

at the gap in your toothy grin and your hands clasped, sweaty behind your back

In the strain of your neck

In the vein on your forehead, threatening to burst, I see a little boy who ran from the snow like ashes from a fire

The blessing of knowing each other now, having narrowly escaped hating each other then

Behind a desk and in front of a scuffed locker door

For you, I will beg god, or the universe, for a mighty cauldron of shimmering gold and jewels on the other side of the world

I wish for Christmas eve every night

And I wish for a million clear skies every morning when the sun rises

So that I can see you as I do in pictures from before I was born and so that I can taste what you had hoped your lives to be


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