young love

In younger days naiveté,
my lies, liquor in the locker
and fantasies. Long legs,
short skirt, front row,
pen between your teeth
and your name haunted me
as though it were my own.

We were fresh, day-glo painted,
cut-class gypsies,
with tie-dyed altered minds.
Clowns in a medieval play,
mocking psychedelic phantoms,
landing unscathed from
shadows whispering Halloween.

Touched lips and hands
blurred to ours,
hid us from hollow stares,
all that I saw was your vision

as it smuggled the glow,
steeled the space,
between green eyes and mine.

Far away now as maps allow,
but permanent on the horizon,
I'm still inside you
and come to know you
as I come to know myself,
beg all men to find you,
make their way complete.

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