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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=527889" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Misshaped Love.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You never talked about cowboys <br>or shootouts with Fay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She was the girl <br>in the apartment above </div><div style="margin:10px 0">who lived with her mum and dad <br>and younger brother. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You sat next to her <br>on the bus </div><div style="margin:10px 0">your hands wanting to reach out <br>and touch hers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You didn’t <br>but held them in check </div><div style="margin:10px 0">like hounds ready <br>for the chase. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She was about your age <br>eleven or so </div><div style="margin:10px 0">give or take a few months <br>and she had long blonde hair </div><div style="margin:10px 0">which her mother <br>sometimes braided </div><div style="margin:10px 0">sometimes not. <br>What do you do </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in your spare time? <br>She asked. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh you know <br>play about </div><div style="margin:10px 0">on the bombed out buildings <br>or bombsites </div><div style="margin:10px 0">or go swimming <br>or play ball with friends </div><div style="margin:10px 0">you said. <br>She nodded and looked away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a bruise <br>on her neck </div><div style="margin:10px 0">where her hair parted <br>and sometimes </div><div style="margin:10px 0">when you put your hand <br>on her shoulder </div><div style="margin:10px 0">she’d wince <br>and move away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But not that day. <br>That day she let it stay </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and even tapped <br>your hand with hers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She turned around <br>and faced you </div><div style="margin:10px 0">her eyes filled with tears <br>like flooded cities </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the blue islands <br>of her pupils </div><div style="margin:10px 0">seemingly swimming <br>against the tide. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We’re moving away <br>she said. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where? You asked. <br>Somewhere far away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Won’t see you anymore <br>she said. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bus drew up <br>at your stop </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you got off <br>and the bus drove away </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and you saw her hand <br>wave at the window. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You never saw her again <br>or heard how she did </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in later years <br>or if her father still beat her </div><div style="margin:10px 0">as Mother said he had. <br>Sometimes you still saw her </div><div style="margin:10px 0">waving goodbye <br>in your dreams at night. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bus going over the hill <br>and your heart pounding </div><div style="margin:10px 0">with a misshaped <br>small boy love still.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Terry+Collett">Terry Collett</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=527889" data-title="Misshaped Love. de Terry Collett" data-description="You never talked about cowboys 
or shootouts with Fay. 

She was the girl 
in the apartment above 

who lived with her mum and dad 
and younger brother. 

You sat next to her 
on the bus 

your hands wanting to reach out 
and touch hers. 

You did..."></div>
</div>
</div>