I'm caught up in the funny
accent, and the rugged
goatee: blonde,
bleached blonde.
A smile wide and
White, straight teeth,
Illuminated dully in the
Overhead lights.
School is dull.
And yet, again, I find myself
Frowning, in something like
embarrassment at the
glare of your green eyes
on me, your face
too close for comfort,
I believe.
There is something like
Amusement
In your eyes, taunting
subtly, as you laugh
Out loud.
Such charm is
Intimidating,
Captivating,
Seldom seen,
Enough to draw the
Moths out
Of hiding.
Am I a moth?
Dear God,
I hope not.
And yet, again, I find myself
Frowning, in something like
embarrassment at the
glare of your green eyes
on me, your face
too close for comfort,
I believe.
lovely work.