ICED GEM 80RR 77/083

He couldn’t see the sweetness coming

As one wouldn’t expect tumbleweed,

before it descends the void

and rolls beneath one’s nose

It was an embrace

one could only hope for

after lugging themself around,

for months

The luggage added more weight

They could smell each other’s sweat,

the boys—or men

They seemed to understand each other

Wrapped around their heads

was a twinge of soft pink,

the color of an iced gem

He watched it arise,

and knew the moon would soon

arrive

He loved the kind of ‘teenage hope’

that sat in the color