Dreamcatchers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young teenage boy is thinking about how he should approach a perticularly charming girl while that same girl is fantasizing over how he'll do it. The following are their thoughts. Italics is the girl, regular is the boy. This is a story poem, not a short, cutesy poem, although it's lighter and much less inappropriate than other love stories. When you're done reading the poem, read down the second column; it has a different message.

Submitted: July 12, 2010

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Submitted: July 12, 2010

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Somehow,
I've come across
the strangest thing.
Today,
I experienced-
I'm not sure what it is.
I caught a girl staring today,
I'm not sure
what she wanted.
I looked back at her;
she sighed.
She only came to school
this year.
She used to live in Arizona;
she lived in a pueblo.
I was gazing across the room
today.
I saw
the strangest thing.
I reacted
strangely
to a boy who sits across from me.
I heard my sister talking about it-
she called it
'puppy love.'
I think I will dismiss the thought
for now.
I think
I don't know what I think.
My stomach
turns circles;
I hate that.
My brother says
I'm falling for her.
I believe him.
She's been smiling
at me
with her European-style
grin.
Ear-to-ear,
not hearty.
He stares back now.
I wonder what he's thinking.
My sister always said
that I should love
like a dreamcatcher.
He should too.
She said that when she sees one,
she ruffles its feathers.
She runs her finger around
the edge
a few times.
And traces a path
to the circle
in the middle
and talks
about the good dreams
that have passed through.
She says
that I should
make him know
that I love him
and learn
howhe works.
She says
that I should really love him
when I find his 'good dream space'
what he really is.
I know.
I know
that I'm falling.
I should talk to her.
How?
Like a rollercoaster
interested in her highs and lows,
turns and drops,
twists and bends?
Or
like a skateboard
whisking everything along
rolling over everything
unimportant.
Slightly
showing off.
He talked to me today
he asked me
how my life is.
He explores
my head
ideas
and thoughts.
Like a fish
in a net,
I surrender too often
to the difficulty
of escape.
I tell him
my thoughts,
all of them,
and he cries.
She told me
she tried not to,
butshe knows
I know.
She was depressed
after I shed a tear
to myself,
but I'm going to tell her anyway.
He told me today
that he didn't want me to feel
likeI had been hurt.
I think he lost his way
when he tried to find
my dream circle
in my maze.
I hugged him,
relieved
that he was serious;
the dance is tomorrow.
We know now,
both of us.
I called herlast night
andwe're together
at the dance.
she ismy haven
in my desert
of life.


© Copyright 2019 Enrai Manako. All rights reserved.

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