Poem to a Young Crush

by Mafa Edwards

Seduced at a distance by your long arms
I try to avert my gaze from your dark round eyes,
lashes wasted on a boy, they said,
frame the depth you use to shape their movements

thoughts surface like an Ivory bar
too white too square
too far away
my mantra: he is a monk, he is a priest, he’s gay, he’s gay.

I promise my young sons
my silence
comfort

I hold my focus
both hands on the wheel like a suburban chauffeur
I navigate my needs between their signposts
mothering first

admit you broke our hearts and walked away
how can I finish what I could not start?