My Heart Is Still Thirteen Years Old

You don't really like him, you just

like the way he looks

His sideways smile

The way he tips his head

just to the side

the sound of his Hello

You don't know him, 

you couldn't like him.

You're just caught up in 

the stubble on his chin

his sad puppy eyes

the way his hair gets flattened

on one side

like someone took an iron to it but gave up

halfway through.

His fidgeting, his

never-stop leg movements,

the way he gets fascinated by things

the way he thinks

You're just trapped in his

fox-quick hands,

the line of his shoulders.

You don't really like him.

You don't know him.

The End

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