Stagnant Silence

I’m a coward, in the aspect of you.
I can’t even look at you, nevermind speak with you!

You sit behind me in two classes,
so I’ve heard you speak, displaying your intelligence
rather ostentatiously.

Your words often cause me to smile,
first in entertained interest,
then in desperate depression,

for I seem incapable of articulating a response,
and can therefore learn no more of you.

Fate, I’ve been
hoping,
dreading,

will bring us together, somehow.

It must.

We must, at the very least, speak.

Your interests mirror mine;
there is so much we could say.

Perhaps we could converse forever,
never growing bored of, or remote from, one another.

But, for the moment,
our friendship lies in the realm

of the potential,

immortalized in my ardent wishes.