Crazy Real

the official blog of author and poet Jennifer Wilson


If I had known
that you would grow
into a boy
who hates kisses
I would have lavished
them on you
as a helpless, wee babe.
Your soft, yielding cheeks
your perfect, bowed mouth
would never
have gone two minutes
without the caress of my lips
and the dimples on your hands
and feet
would have been 
fair game as well.
But now you are large
all elbows and knees
with five years of growth
on your furrowed brow
as you scold me again
for stealing a smooch
on the top
of your

1 Comment

  1. Pierced my heart as I read your words and I look at my three boys, two on the verge of becoming teenagers. Excuse me as I run and kiss their faces.

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