Notes: Because Cameron is such a sweetheart. The poem isn't very good, but I had fun writing it, so there's always that! *bright smile*
POV: Bianca-poem, as said in the summary.
Set: After the movie.
Feedback: Appreciated.
Disclaimer: I can never lay claim on '10 Things I Hate About You,' no matter how I wish it were otherwise.
--
--
He tastes like sugar, red or blue in little waves of fireworks
lit in sparklers that dance as fairies do on the horizon,
as if he is sweet candy; when he smiles, it's a clumsy,
broad smile that stretches on a grin, as though he feels life
is a dancer's playground.
I like the knowing I can hold his hand and swing our arms
together, an unending loop that connects our bodies
deeply, chastely, sweetly, just like sugar, and I like
even better to know I can flirt and be coy, or simply
lean over the table and kiss him:
short, breathless, long, shy, sweet, and ever, always
sugar-gentle.
I wonder why it is I took so long - three months, I think,
four days, and more or less an hour - to notice the
small things about him that I love: he is honest,
and kind, and means the best in everything he does; he
smiles with all his heart and turns red when I turn
to wink at him in the halls.
It is a certain power, I think, that Kat never
thought to mention, of a girl over a boy and a woman
over a man, that she can bring him
happiness or sorrow with the smallest things; I broke
his heart once, already, and I want to keep
the happiness in all of our moments.
He leaves soon, a graduated senior with a dream of
college and stability in his mind, and I have
a few things left to share with him - dreams and thoughts,
real, true apologies and a thousand fleeting moments at
sea, giggling and learning slowly the ways
of the boatman - before he becomes part of the
vague world that stretches paramount before us all.
I am afraid of him leaving, afraid he will find another girl
who is better than I am, more deserving of him
than a girl who is almost but not quite a junior in high
school, but I keep it perfectly disguised with bright sunshine
smiles and daffodil sundresses that make his
cheeks burn red, and I love knowing I can do that to him.
I will, even if he goes to his college and meets a
woman who is beautiful and intelligent and absolutely,
indefinably, hideously perfect, be the girl
he remembers always in eternity and the sea mist; I want
to be the only girl who knows he tastes
like sugar.
POV: Bianca-poem, as said in the summary.
Set: After the movie.
Feedback: Appreciated.
Disclaimer: I can never lay claim on '10 Things I Hate About You,' no matter how I wish it were otherwise.
--
--
He tastes like sugar, red or blue in little waves of fireworks
lit in sparklers that dance as fairies do on the horizon,
as if he is sweet candy; when he smiles, it's a clumsy,
broad smile that stretches on a grin, as though he feels life
is a dancer's playground.
I like the knowing I can hold his hand and swing our arms
together, an unending loop that connects our bodies
deeply, chastely, sweetly, just like sugar, and I like
even better to know I can flirt and be coy, or simply
lean over the table and kiss him:
short, breathless, long, shy, sweet, and ever, always
sugar-gentle.
I wonder why it is I took so long - three months, I think,
four days, and more or less an hour - to notice the
small things about him that I love: he is honest,
and kind, and means the best in everything he does; he
smiles with all his heart and turns red when I turn
to wink at him in the halls.
It is a certain power, I think, that Kat never
thought to mention, of a girl over a boy and a woman
over a man, that she can bring him
happiness or sorrow with the smallest things; I broke
his heart once, already, and I want to keep
the happiness in all of our moments.
He leaves soon, a graduated senior with a dream of
college and stability in his mind, and I have
a few things left to share with him - dreams and thoughts,
real, true apologies and a thousand fleeting moments at
sea, giggling and learning slowly the ways
of the boatman - before he becomes part of the
vague world that stretches paramount before us all.
I am afraid of him leaving, afraid he will find another girl
who is better than I am, more deserving of him
than a girl who is almost but not quite a junior in high
school, but I keep it perfectly disguised with bright sunshine
smiles and daffodil sundresses that make his
cheeks burn red, and I love knowing I can do that to him.
I will, even if he goes to his college and meets a
woman who is beautiful and intelligent and absolutely,
indefinably, hideously perfect, be the girl
he remembers always in eternity and the sea mist; I want
to be the only girl who knows he tastes
like sugar.