This one’s for Q.
The boy that changed everything.
Lit a fire to a quiet girl who was destined to burst.
Caused questions in fixed households that needed to stretch.
Dangerous enough to make desires seem like rights of passage.
Sweet to the touch of breaking down boundaries built by life.
The boy who made her think.
Who’s interactions left love notes on diary pages.
Inciting cheers from a crowd rooting for the main girl.
The good girl.
With just enough friends and just enough angst.
For a boy like Q to tip her between one side and the other.
This one’s for Q.
For taking my breath then and now.
A boy who’s hands I notice grab gently and with purpose the waist of a woman I resonate with.
Tv magic connecting us, I feel him touch me and instantly I am healed.
“You’re beautiful shorty.”
I knew he would feel like this.
A moment where my youth is everything I ever wanted.
The cool girl after school adding the essence to the air.
Brief intermissions of my guidance overhead and amongst scenes to explain what I feel.
He drops her off.
They were written for one another.
This one’s for Q.
The boy that got her ready.
Who made things uncomfortable at Cinderella’s day job.
A boy who felt enough like a man so she could feel like a woman.
When it was fun to pretend.
Q you help me to still pretend.
To feel free and passionate in my universe.
Where music plays.
And I write in my book.
And I am ready.
And you’ll pick me up down the street.
This one’s for Q.
I’ll always be your shorty.
Thoughts In My 20z 
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