forbidden

beautiful boy, she murmured,

resting her forehead

on the coolness of the window.

her breath fogged the pane,

and she pressed her palm against the fogged glass.

the handprint had five fingers,

one palm

but no soul, no heart.

after all, a hand is just a tool, isn’t it?

and she has no tools to deal with you,

beautiful boy.

outside the window

raindrops hit the glass

with persistent pecking.

decades have moved her

far from the time when

eyes like yours, a look like yours

should affect her,

beautiful boy.

leave her world and let her be.

just let her keep the memory of you and your eyes,

beautiful boy.