Boy in the Office

Dear boy in the office who never wears shoes:
You asked me if there were any pears left
even though you saw my boss give me the last one.
I don’t even really like pears.
I offered it to you, hand outstretched, fruit like a kiss waiting to be snatched
but you said no, keep it.
I said,
I have pears at home.
You said,
But these pears are so fancy! When are we ever going to pears wrapped in Christmas paper again?
 

I couldn’t speak to that, so you smiled.
Reached out as if to take the ripe-to-bursting fruit
and closed my fingers over it.

Boy in the office who never wears shoes,
I will bring you a pear every day for the rest of our lives
if you smile at me like that just once more,
as if I am some secret no one has unraveled,
like you are a poem
before I know what poetry is,
and the only safety in this world is found in bare feet.