Those eyebrows question me
Quoting back at me
The little truthes I’ve let slip
Punctuating my sentences
Staccato when he stares
With big eyes seeing through me
Clingfilm against the light
Seeing through to the
Very soul of what I am saying
And what I am not saying
I cannot hide
And I rather like it
Rumbling laughter
Stirs up my giggles
Which please most of all
I laugh not at him
Or even with him
But for the joy of him
I would give my poetry
Meager though it is
An ode to a boy
He would give his kingdom
For just a heat pack
I would give mine
For a repeat of the summer