Every time we hold hands, it’s like we can’t let go,
Locked together with a padlock, forever.
Because when I see you in the vast hallway,
I push and shove through my teenage peers,
To get to you before you go to your next class.
Then I reach you,
You take my hand,
And you look at me,
With your shining-like-the-fire-in-my-heart eyes,
With every intent of leaning over
To kiss me on my cheek
In front of people passing by.
In this moment,
I wonder what people think of you,
Think of me,
And how I’ve affected their thoughts of you.
I reach into my pocket as you pull away,
Feeling for the tight, folded edges of my note.
I retrieve my heart from my pocket,
And hand it to you.
My note seems to smile at the touch of your hand
And throbs like my heart.
*This poem has bee published in "A Celebration of Poets"; Fall 2010 edition.