A POEM
BY SUMEYA GASA
This boy I imagined
He let down his walls
As his shirt came off
I saw scriptures across his chest
And I’m not just talking about the tattoos
He said they were all the people he had
Lost.
I saw scriptures
Of everything else he was yet to gain
I saw the world at his feet
And kissed them.
He flinched and autumn leaves fell off him.
On them were names and dreams yet to be realised.
I put one in my pocket.
Later the next day,
I found a song he had played
And listened to it
Three times’ the charm.
This boy I imagined
Looked at me
With eyes so empty
And full of what he’ll never be.
Eyes that were blinding
With a light that’s not nearly as strong as the sunlight
But achingly dull
You just have to look away.
I told him, “take off the shades
Your eyes are absorbing the light anyway.”;
He took them off
With hands that have never loved
But only yearned
And played the role of numerous lovers.
I saw a melody strumming off his finger tips.
I kissed them
He shuddered and snowflakes licked my skin.
Winter has never been kinder.
This boy I imagined
Accidentally ripped open his chest
As his shirt came off.
I saw his lungs
Pumping slowly and lethargically
With a plea for life to be blown into them.
I kissed him.
His entire body trembled
And Summer and Spring united in his wake
Sweeping me into more than I had bargained for
In the blur of that moment
I wrote myself onto his chest
Put back the leaf I had taken
Wiped off the snowflakes
And basked in the sunshine
In a moment looped
Into an imagined forever.
