poems,  poetry


walked past her house
every other day
going to jason’s
or ben’s house

snow white husky
behind a chainlink fence
i would crane my neck
hoping to see her

her hair glowed
in sunlight
and in shade
green eyes cut into me

i never talked to her
but had conversations
with her
in my head

we had everything
in common
favorite color
and lucky number 8

a perfect match
made of my own delusion
i would make sure
we never met

walked past her house
and mumbled what i
would say
if i had the nerve

never talked to her
didn’t want to
break the dream
of nervous infatuation