A Boy Named Lilac

A poem about self-authenticity

Photo by Valentin Balan on Unsplash

His name is Lilac,
Yet his cheeks are red.
A rosy kind of rouge,
Lips like they’ve bled.

His name is Lilac,
But his eyes are brown.
Like soil beneath his nails,
Or the river there in town.

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Emily Wilcox

Emily Wilcox

I imagine in a parallel universe I might be a caricaturist or a botanist or somewhere asleep on the moon — but here, I am a writer.