Space Man

Your head

 F

   A

      L

         L

            S

back when you laugh;

your bright red Converse

    squeak

against the linoleum floor

when you run to her,

excited over your newest discovery;

your hair stands up on its own,

electrocuted by lightning as

you ran through a rainstorm;

your eyebrows pucker when you

remember information

you thought you had lost;

your face

crumbles when you’re upset,

like a three year old who

received the wrong sort of

alien

on Christmas Day;

when you lost her, you

cried to yourself for days;

I want to comfort you, love, and let you

know that you are not alone; but I

have no spaceship to reach

you in the sky, and

I can’t fly to

rescue you.