outspoken as always
he asks why i smile
she loves watching us work,
his classmate chimes in
(all teachers live for torture)

he has caught me in a moment
(one of many on this first day back)
where my available memory sits
on the forefront of my monitor
(the smile will never be far
from lips that can’t hide happiness)

(i will never tell him
i will tell almost no one)
the images i tuck in electrified files
at the base of my hard drive
ready to upload
a screensaver’s pleasure
at the smiling touch of a keyboard