Emma 4 Tom 4ever

And those that his arm stiffened at
were the ones he knew by name.
For the students that had written
love into the wood, he flicked
a whim over like a pebble,
shot it into a promise.

One desk, with a stump fourth leg
fell uneasily in the rush with a thud.
An odd one, scratched with compasses,
tortured with acid and tong marks,
flung to the floor, now a blockade,
unwittingly heroic.

I am sure if felt as stunned as they did:
feeling the lash of the first bullet,
before their ribs swung open like bridges.
Eyes scrolling for something to fix on:
relationships begun, dates dug in
to the surface, chewing gum shunned,
windblown petals in each corner.