1. Him

He was all kinds of wrong

From the top

of his tousled hair

                                                                        To the bottom on his worn through soles

He was a mirage of different shades of blue

A bright m

                 o

                    n

                       o

                           t

                              o

                                 n

                                     e

That d a n c e d across my eyes

into

my retinas

then straight into my temporal lobe

and 

s

t

r

a

i

g

h

t 

to my

tiny

cold

heart