Premature
I think sometimes I miss it,
the peeling, liberty-stained walls
plump with stubbornness
and the precious ingenuity of boyhood,
the landscape of flesh in the
crib nestled side by side,
belly to back
But the picotee blue walls
tainted with blotches of dilated liberty,
served as a pillar,
for stacks of accolades and snapshots
of recollection
As the frayed carpet imprinted with
the wondrous shades of fēi xíngqí rustled,
under the tumulus of our
soft, soaking hoodies
Cue adolescence, the insatiable
yearning of a masculine bear–
beer bottles backing
up bathrooms to the brim,
He drank abundantly
leaving behind petals and picotee blue walls.