Your snails

...a poem about theft.

Photo by Andrey Shpak

I remember your eyes wild;
defiant with mischief as you tilted up and back on the swing seat,
one pointed foot on the ground,
your slimy snails slithering across the open palm of your hand.

You watched me shudder,
and felt, not older, but bolder than me,
bigger and braver than me,
at least in this one thing.

And I stole it from yo…