Poem to a Young Crush
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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?
MaNHaTTaN Linear 