Citrine

 

In the fraction of maths

And half- eaten pies

The deep cuts made by knives

the jam sticking in stark white

Plates

green-striped coats

and cream colored undershirts

The contrasting blue against

a black cat

pitchers standing

against the sky

as tiny droplets scurry

To cotton cloths

And cuffs against 

A hand

There are signets

over smiles

Their popularity

When sails are coming to shore

As the white man steps to take the boat

The tired boy sits on the steps

As he sees the ocean sink

With the sun

at the balcony 

I watch his cheeks turn to red

Then his lashes 

Twinkle with sweat

he wants to leave

The ankles speak

When they stand

as

his palm briefly touches the

Sand

to his shirt

To his back

he pries it off

While

beginning to walk

Then slowly

He turned his face up

And smiled 

"Hey!"

He wore a charm

"Hi"

Now I see his eyes

Without shadows

The curls go into way

It was scenic green

his eyes are almost like the moss

The grass after the rain

"What are you doing there?"

He asks.

"Nothing. Just watching."

"Well, if you watch it down here, we can also go and get drinks at the shop I work at. On me."

"Where?"

"Follow me?"

I walked down towards

And I take it

When he offers his hand

He smiles again

"You're not from here?"

"No."

"Where?"

"Where I'm from is very cold, not like here."

"Then it is far."

"Yes."

"But does it have lakes?"

"Maybe."

"I saw you, at the dance last night...actually."

"I saw you too."

"Really? What was I wearing then?"

"A Michael Jackson kind of costume."

"I DIDN'T!"

"Of course, it was made up."

"So you didn't see me?"

"No."

"Oh, well I saw you."

"What was I wearing?"

"A green dress."











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