He was a boy with very bendy fingers ,
he was thin and tall and slouched a bit ,
he was a boy whose soul sang melancholically ,
bittersweet baritone voice ,
he grinned like he was shy ,
he danced to his own grooves as if the world didn't exist outside but inside him ,
sang like sorrow was joy and heartaches were festivals ,
his eyes - I don't know what colour it really is ,
maybe a faded grey when he is forlorn ?
maybe a longing green when he is home ?
maybe an incomplete blue when he is in love ?
Hair so stubborn like an adorable 10 year old running everywhere in the backyard ,
soft curls and strong waywardness ,
lips like poetry ,
how he shines ,
how he sparkles ,
how he tinkles ,
the boy who likes boys ,
doesn't know I like him too much .