28 August 2011

Poem For Brent


You cut your hair,
I see gray at the temple.
You let it grow long,
it’s still there.

Either way, it’s sexy to me.

Your eyes crinkle more now
when you smile or laugh
(which is not often enough).
That decades-old scar on your chin
has become part of your natural lining.

I could watch your profile all day.

The important parts of you
have gotten better, or
they’ve stayed exactly the same.
You know what I’m talking about.

Fifteen years have gone fast,
and you are timeless.

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