(A) boy

A boy lies listening to old melancholies;
once shared, once heard, and crumpled;
with another boy.
The ripples in the spaces, that never made sounds
drew them nigh in sticky summer afternoons and
they grew, cancer amongst hunters;
hunted in their own dreams;
chosen murderers.

A boy gifted a boy
a ‘pillow of dreams’
in the soft night that came with stars for them to choose within.
They chose different ones
each with their own blossoms of faith, hurt and cobwebs
and ocassional deal of cards, with their own time for boys in space.
Like ‘good men’ the boys understood
‘spaces between friends’.

A boy sped across an ocean
riding an unikely star.
A fountain, he was, dragging out fears
meant to be his own private war.
Scared of the spirits
he met the pale shadows
and hid his obscured dreams
to rescue a little boy whose smile pleased the weather.

A boy lay silent
in his own grand prison built of dreams he chose not to see.
He traded his life
for a lopsided smile
that he kept safe within the colours of his mind.
The flowers still bloom in his untrue garden of hurt
and he takes his last tired shower,
his only space in this lonely night.

A boy missed the bus.
A boy hurt.
A boy never cries.
A boy sat alone and spoke of memories to
a boy.
A boy loved.
A boy, just a boy.
A boy, only a man.