Porter

When I leave

I can still smell his smell on me

When I do I can't help but smile

And miss him

When I kiss him

Happiness surges through me

I only want to do it again

And I am happy

I wish he were mine

But I am content

With what we have

For it is wonderful

He is so small and fragile now

A blank slate with nothing but potential

Yet already he is a work of art

Pure and new

Cerra Hawkins

3/27/09