In remembrance of Mo

The darkest boy I ever saw
Velveteen
A newly hatched butterfly
I asked to touch your face
You let me
I asked to touch your eyelashes
I’d never seen such beauty
You chased and I ran
Circles in, circles out
Hopscotching and tincanwobbly
I held you in wrestled grips
And you loved me
And I loved you
A child’s love
Then an adult’s love
And you couldn’t stay
Because the world is fucked
But you’re here
Because you were there
And I’ll keep you here
Held close in thought
Little Mo
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This entry was posted in Grief, Love, poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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