poppies

• . I wanted to graze my nose across the tip of your nose, play at being Eskimos like we did when you were little.
• spasms of paper red,
• I resisted the impulse to run my fingers through the gelled blackthorns of your hair.
• All my words flattened, rolled, turned into felt,
• released a song bird from its cage
• I listened, hoping to hear your playground voice catching on the wind.