Thursday, January 8, 2015

The Student

Maybe you are teaching me
as I am teaching you. 
Patience stretches seconds into years,
and we are far too young to wait our turns. 
We are the ponytails with tendrils running free- 
the pants worn under dresses. 
We eat cold dough rather than wait for warm cookies,
but of course we eat those too. 
The chocolate on your face matches mine,
and I laugh as I watch my words skip out of your perfect mouth. 

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