He was hidden behind
olive fingerprints--
and I never knew there was
an echo
from sunlit spots
of glass bottles.
Yet, he reminds me
there is
someone stronger
on the other side of
the plug, I keep clasping
onto.
Someday, he will search
through the night,
peer over the glamor
of city mixing and
watch...
as I write once more
for the boy who
ran away from the world.
