When I Started Sharing Poetry

when my heart swelled and
blood pounded and I needed
to take aspirin to quiet
my head and sleep until
I could see him the next
day at school lumbering
in the hall
held back two grades
tall as the teachers
His black hair always
falling across his eyes
black eyes dangerous eyes
that locked on mine
and took my breath
even before he kissed
me with a surprisingly
open mouth and a
moving tongue
there in a hidden hallway
I wanted to say something
mark this time for him
tell him how special he
was how he had changed
the world for me
how good he truly was
no matter what anyone
else said
but this was not the
time for thank you notes
or letters
although I wrote good
letters, the pages
would burn with this
heat and one sentence
would just melt into another
in this new found fire
and so I started writing
poetry
and when he
lumbering, left back,
dangerous to others
read
this poem folded in neat
quarters on loose leaf
paper
when he with large
fumbling fingers unfolded
this, my, poem and
read
one black jeaned leg
raised on a step
as I stood and watched
him finish reading the
words written just for him
watched his eyes close
his head bang back
against that concrete wall
in that quiet hallway in
that instant before
he reached for me and
my eyes closed
and bones liquified
there in that silent hallway
light slanting sideways
he moved the hair
and exposed his eyes
shining,
clear
wide and wet
glistening, wide, wet eyes
and softly, softly
he whispered
in a strange ragged voice
thank you for this
and kissed me hard
and then again
soft and gentle
as falling
rose petals
brushing my cheek
my upper lip
and as I fell
into the black
wet pool of his eyes
he held my face
kissed my forehead
said, Goodbye
and left
sighing,deep, raw, gutteral
filled with something
I did not understand
left me with a touch
of his finger on my nose
turned and
walked away rubbing the
back of his neck
and carefully
oh so carefully sliding
my poem
refolded
into his tight
back black pocket