MISS UNDERSTOOD
Miss Understood awoke,
blooming spiderleggy eyes
on their dark lily pads.
She is a Boy Collector,
stashing them in the secret cubbard in her closet,
beneath the luggage, diaries, and photos.
It opens upward from the floor.
I know because I'm one of them.
She gives all of us just enough water to survive,
but not enough to grow.
We are dwarfed and neglected,
but feel teased and important when we're fed.
Such is the life of a boy, collected.
But on this morning when she came with water
she found the closet door ajar,
and in her cubbard empty boyless space.
But she looked closer,
and there was just one item -
a dusty spear carved from toothpick.
The pierced pure heart at its tip was hers to keep,
and she did.