i carried rudy softly through the broken street... with him i tried a little harder at comforting. i watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name jesse owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. i saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and i saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. he does something to me, that boy. every time. it's his only detriment. he steps on my heart. he makes me cry.















