My paper falls lifeless on my desk,
Splattered in green blood.
It's then I noticed
The "kill" in your last name.
I turn the paper over
Before anyone sees, including me.
I don’t need to see on my paper
What I already beheld in your eyes.
Your steel blue eyes speak premonitions
Of concrete floors catching tears
Of two caps and gowns on stage
Instead of three.
Your eyes matched the color in hers
As she pulled me aside
After commencement practice,
More apologetic than angry,
And told me it was a mistake:
I hadn’t earned it after all.
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