Page 74 of Poetry of Flowers

“Those loveeee eyes. You got those love eyes. Those when the black circle is growing big big. My mommy likes watching stuff about that,” he explained, stroking the dirty teddy bear he had squeezed in his armpit.

I knew what he meant; pupils dilated when we felt attraction. Our biology teacher told us that two years back. It’s an interesting mechanism of the brain.

“I hate to admit it to you, bud, but I don’t have a girlfriend.”

He looked over to Tillie who was talking to her cousin while Theo was looking at his phone.

We were a lot of people in a tight space, this whole thing was pure anxiety for him.

“But you have love eyes for her,” he whispered.

Clever boy. He knew not to say it out loud.

I have to admit, when he wasn’t jumping and screaming or crying, he was pretty adorable.

“It’s complicated.”

“But she is your sweet bird?”

I nodded once. “Yes, she’s my sweet bird, but don’t tell her that.” Sean made a zip motion over his mouth. As I ruffled his hair, the bus stopped.

“Pee break!” Devon announced from the front.

March 30, 2015

Sadness is a lonely child

A child without a home

A child without a parent

A child without a toy

A child without a face.

Pain has made everything feel empty

Empty house

Empty mind

Empty heart

Empty soul.

There are no smiles in the darkness

No smiles in tears

No smiles in prayers

No smiles in screams

No smiles in grief.

ChapterTwenty-Three

MATILDA, MAY 17TH, 2013

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