He strokes me like a cat

Hands on my shoulder

Party chat

Fingers on chin

Arm round my waist

Under his umbrella

Lips on cheek

Hand held

in his car

If you were a witness

Would you pour out


Sharp words?


The sixteen year old boy stood on the pavement

Watching the pride parade

Take place in his city

Mesmerized by the noise and colour

Freedom and joy

He soaked in the music

Mouthing the words to himself

He did not feel alone

He wanted to stay right in this moment

His eyes traveled over the banners



It was the joy on their faces that struck him

Pulled him in

Could he feel that joy too?

He wanted that so bad.