1. my lies are always brutally honest.
2. keep your eyes wide shut.
3. you are made of star dust and so am i.
andie was 6 years old.
he liked to keep his lips open open open and drop squirming worms
and ants with tiny kicking legs down his throat.
he liked his sister, iceskating on the lake during winter
and the tight-lipped fear you feel before you fall down a tree.
andie was 11 years old.
he liked to pull back his sling shot and fling acorns
at squirrels and have spitting contests with his sister, laurie
and catch fireflies in honey jars, then hang them to his ceiling,
like he had the universe right above his eyes.
andie was 16 years old.
he liked to cut snowflakes out of his grandfather’s bible
and stare wide eyed at rosie, who seemed to bleed sex appeal
with her lipstick red mouth and translucent sheer shirts.
at school, he poured salt in his teacher’s coffees
and got a’s in classes he didn’t realize he was taking.
he would cut class and meet with girls out back,
trying to taste rosie in their pink coated lips.
at home, he poured a holy shot of scotch in his gradfather’s water
and was rewarded with wrinkled eye smiles and a lion’s pride
when he quoted a scripture correctly.
andie was 16 years old and his fatal flaw was his lack
of understanding that not all with flowers taste very sweet.
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