manu.

I don’t know how to begin but when I think of the beginning

it makes me feel something.



To a boy I once teased

Far too much and unkindly

Don’t you know

That’s just what kids do on the playground

Boys will be boys

Maybe he likes you



This boy is a funny mix of nobody’s fool

And sweet heart soul

He grinned and beared it. all.

I can still see his small sheepish smile

In the balcony of the UT

Under barbs hurled at him by a cocky girl

Under water dripping down his face

Under humility

And rawness

That he didn’t know what to do with



A teacher yells at him in greek

In a soft, disappointed, Brooklyn kind of way

That cuts to the core 

That everyone understands

He comes back faster stronger better



Sometimes I forget he is there

And when I turn around

He always is

To offer a smile or a laugh or disapproving look

‘I saw that’ 

His eyes say



There is muscularity to his interactions

A Deceiving quietude 



He is the sort

That when you say

What

Do

You

Think



He says it



He is the sort that when you say

Do

You

Mind



He says 

yes



He is quiet

He is assertive

He is gentle

He has grown



I don’t know how to end but when I think of the ending

It makes me feel something