Aprils
you can roleplay as me a little
you will anyway, you can’t help it
through reflection I insert myself
into every window’s scene
from second-story I watched myself
flatten spirals into quilt patch grass
barefoot when I dared, when it was warm,
calling him under a pink cherry tree
do you have a fantasy like this?
love given
and never taken,
perfect, peregrine?
you’re something else,
he told me.