Neverland.

in the warmth of August,
anticipatory shivers
erupted across my molten skin.

he was a sinfire shot
in tacky board shorts
with his orange long board

recklessly held.

the first time we spoke, that simple hi
rearranged my life

i understood then
what people meant
when they said “fate”.

he held my hand
with an innocent smirk
languorous kisses that drenched

i was no fledgling
but in his palms
i was whatever he wanted to mould.

creator created
creations that devoured
my imagination with imagined grace

fingers that traced
my body parts
into intangible progenies.

November came
when he surrendered

i understood then
what people meant
when they said “change”.

leaves that fell
as leaving felt
burnt orange flash

five years later
i begin to remember

tacky shorts
two warm bodies
inked driven art.

a simple high
that rearranged my life —

recklessly held,
his smile was like christmas lights,
warm sunshine and keylime pie.

he tasted how whiskey felt.

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