Your wint'ry blue eyes fill
with such delight as you talk.
Me, sitting on your ratty chair,
you, burning me with your stare.
Music and college and the wooden egg
that sticks out of your speakers.
You're on your bed, an armreach away,
me,lounging about,reactions delayed.
We watch your favorite band play
with endless groupies and moshpits.
I watch your cobalt eyes grow warm,
like cotton clouds after the storm.
Should I get closer? Am I too bold?
will you close off again and drift away?
I sat by your bed, not moving at all,
glad to see the sky after the squall.
I'm happy this way...
I'd rather be it this way...
So it's a "no" about telling him then.
Author notes
Written April 23rd, 2006
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