Like a child playing paper football
you flicked me through the handmade goal at which you were aiming.
I was happy to be folded by your fingers
into a crisp little triangle.
We were working together towards a win, a final point.
And when you became coach, I paid no mind.
It was all for our team.
We once played paper dolls
and you had the eye to choose
all my little paper outfits.
And when the games ended I would walk you home,
up the block, up the hill.
I didn't mind. You did the the planning,
imagined the worlds, gave me names, and I
When the game ended this time and I skidded onto the floor
rather than flying through the goal,
you ran yourself home--
up the block, up the hill--and I
until someone else came
and swept me away.
@ello @ellopoetry @ellowrites @apoem_4u