I see you around campus sometimes.  Your large curly halo, your small figure with a mountain of sweaters, your slow walk that gives you time to be filled with wonder.  You let your thoughts think and you never waste your time by trying to save it.  

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          “Hey Brian,” you say happy, confident, crooked smile and all.  My smile feels just as crooked. 

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          You continue on the paved path through the academic quad, the grass clipped short and dull in the gray Pennsylvania winters.  You are bundled against the cold and I think to myself I’ve never seen anybody dress like you, which is a weird thought because I’ve seen plenty of people who dress like you.  But still, I think as you walk up the steps into Denny Hall, I’ve never seen anyone dress like you.