Four different classes, four different desks –
Four different views across the room –
A smile, a look, a fleeting glance,
A few words exchanged waiting to go out the door –
And it’s secret — it’s a real secret —
No best friends know; no parents, no siblings –
Just furtive thoughts round about bedtime,
Just… wondering, looking over during a football game
At someone
Ensconced in a different crowd
Secure in ignorance
While a secret, faithfully kept
Dies, like his soul
A slow
and lingering
death
