What's your favourite colour, dear?
your teacher held out her gentle hand,
to acknowledge you and
to make you feel welcome and safe.
but it's not your
teacher who
gave you such
rush sentiments.
you look at her, he r ,
the girl beside you
with bright honey hair;
ocean eyes, a pair
a kind voice beneath
her gapped front teeth.
My favourite colour is blue.
you stuttered, with eyes gleaming.
Your teacher smiled at your
wary expression, and before
she spoke, you cut her off.
Blue. The exact blue in her eyes.
you look at her while saying this,
and she smiled.
-
YOU ARE READING
Twenty
Poetry❝ Blow out all the candles, you're too old to be so shy. ❞ © nate k. 2014
