Quiet Boy

he has a slow Sunday kind of smile
she'll fall in love with the sunset 
in his eyes
he's a poet, pen for a weapon
quiet boy
purposely getting lost
but then
he's killing midnight
getting dirty for a dream
he's eating moonlight
dying from the poisons
of youth
know it all's tread on him 
lucky to be graced by his presence
one more day
he ponders the moment
wonders what Bob Dylan might say 
too many illusions getting 
in his way
fragile heart's antiqued on concrete
end meets end
middle incomplete
but he's easy to love
disappears too easily
he knows she loves him
so he'll leave quietly
the only place he'll be captured
is in her smile
as she's sleeping