the way in which
and how the day on the sun dial cement
against the shadow umbrella
i spoke the first words of clarity,
as my cheek began to burn.
(was i lying?)
we walked, and we walked, and we walked,
thrill as how my hand slipped through your fingers,
deep as how my chin rested on your shoulder,
and i finally felt twenty years older,
but held longer than you held on me.
Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry