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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463874" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The First Time II</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463874" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Well, well', he smiled, 'is that so'.<br>inviting me to look into his glittering, prescient, black eyes-<br>so much like mine, that said, like mine<br>'I am not what I seem'.<br>'I've written poems, too. We shall see'.<br>The shrubs half-exhaled in relief but remained vigilant.<br>He bellowed not, see.<br>No, he saw me in return<br>doubtless as a creature stuck in eternal, inarguable boyhood<br>like a fly fixed forever in amber; <br>boyhood like meanings, pictures that resonate and magnify-<br>amber like fun, <br>the boy who'd be the man who'd be Peter Pan<br>flight being one thing you can't argue with.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=463874" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But he despared, I knew, <br>because I saw a cloud ascend his brow-<br>this was the suburbs after all.<br>'Whose fault...</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Morgan+Michaels">Morgan Michaels</a></strong></div>

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