Come Talk To Me

They swung their feet on the brick walls,
Rush, rush,
Rush, rush,
And chimed together “Daisy Give Me Your Answer Do”,
Come talk to me,
I try,
My brown hair whistled up
In a pony tail,
Come talk to me,
I mouth each syllable to the faces on the wall,
Each pasted with a smile,
Illuminating a childhood,
I’ve got the fix for one without walls,
Or faces.
I swung my little young body on a red pole,
Attached to the school’s structure,
Come talk to me,
I cry,
They seemingly walk past like chatty ghosts,
Tennis rackets and skipping ropes,
Tangled up in the gasps of laughter,
And kisses behind the school bins.
Come talk to me,
A dust mote settles aside my shoulder,
Kisses me behind the red pole.
Come talk to me,
A sea of dalliances and friendships,
I with a notebook and a little blue fountain pen,
Try to peel an orange,
But can’t.
So I will ask a teacher.
Come talk to me,
They settle in a chair marking first lesson’s work,
“Who’s there?”
Come talk to me,
But the pen scribbles,
The ticks flash,
The crosses stumble,
My orange seeps a little juice from the cracks where I’ve been picking,
And picking,
And scratching,
And stabbing,
Come talk to me,
I whisper,
Brown hair in a ponytail,
We can play House,
I’ll be the dog,
Let me play,
Try as I might,
My little teardrops fall to the ground in puddles,
The boys jump in them later on,
Splashing everywhere,
Giggling,
Saltwater on mud.
Come talk to me,
I will jump in with you,
And we’ll play House.
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