San Francisco - 1

There's a boy at work
Who I know I love.
He's a man, actually,
But I can't bear thinking of him as a man.
Because the world does not hold him
In the same way it holds other men.
There is something so light in him,
Like Earth as it revolves 
Is a place he loves watching, no matter
Whether he's in the snow globe, or out.

And when he's in the snow globe
​He's making more gold, 
And when he's out he's pointing in,
Showing us where he's been.
He reminds me of someone I knew in school
Who projected in a crowd - while others 
Appeared flat, two-dimensional, he would
Fold out, like some kind of trick, or a toy.
I loved that boy, and I was not the only one.
​I wonder how he ever got his feelings out.