Untitled/121716

Painfully aware
of the shape of my own face,
as I squinted to avoid
the heat of the sun
and I thought I could see
better beyond the curve,
just as I thought the wall
would protect me from the wind
blowing in the wrong direction.
Maybe there’s a metaphor here,
if you find it
you’re more poetic than I
because I was only being literal.

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sometimes i look at them
and i think they are
little versions of us
T looks more like me
and J like you
but for the eyes and lips
T has full lips like you
J’s thin like mine
the eyes don’t make sense though
they’re brown, as are yours
but yours have no green
the way our boys’ do
and a funny thing about eyes:
i read (or maybe heard) once
that they are already full sized
the day a person is born
so maybe they look like
a miniature me and a miniature you
but there is nothing
miniature about their
ever-changing yet never-changing
green-browns that pierce my heart

In response to Miniature.