from the library
across red brick
with a tale of the night
a quirky smile, sincere
cheeks puff with a laugh
eyes look from their corners
turning the corner of the stairs
curly lashes surround
frame the moments of the climb.
he takes me up
to the studio
and i watch him
on the floor, bent over
in faded blue jeans and a t-shirt
both smeared in colors now dried.
he works around his feet
like Jackson Pollock
streaks of color i didn't know existed
my changing nature never looked at
like so many things he has shown me
a favorite orange i now notice in leaves
on the brush i bring to his cheek.
an endless laughter pervades
when i should be studying
a welcomed distraction
like a canceling snow woken up to
when all i wanted was to sleep.
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