I was doing laundry and blowing off the reading that I was attempting to finish, so I decided to look out the window. I saw people going by, and as much as I wanted to go talk to them, I couldn't. So I wrote these instead.
Red hair bobs in curls as you walk, somehow matching your laughter perfectly although
I can't hear it through the glass. You told me that the
Kiss bothered you, and yet you are joyful in a way that radiates off your skin
And illuminates the air around you on such an overcast day.
Just as you walk by with him, I wonder what would have happened if
Our paths had crossed early enough for us to become friends instead of
Establishing our smile-and-keep-going awareness of the other.
Maybe the fact that you choose to go by your middle name is significant.
A negative association with the person whose first name you share? Perhaps.
Rambling thoughts, somehow fascinating. Your hair curls too.
Something makes me curious.
And then three really attractive guys came in, one of whom had an accent that I can't place. Perhaps spanish?
Oh well. My clothes are clean now.
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