One boy has a frangipani in his hair

 

By Zara Khan

One boy has a frangipani in his hair–

They sit, he smiles

On a crowded bus,

I can barely see him.

 

The others–

They all attach to the different

Veins you can see

Running through my arms.

 

I am a body made up of colours–

A working network hidden underneath my skin,

Hidden just like I am,

And just like he is too.

 

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