To the girl at the front of the class who doesn’t talk to me.
I’ve been wondering about you.
I haven’t really gotten you figured out
like I’ve done with everyone.
Normally a few dress choices and –
I haven’t really gotten your look down
but it definitely drives me crazy.
I’ve talked to you once or twice.
Never about anything.
Tried to learn more about you at a party.
I kept seeing your dress around the dance floor
and couldn’t take my eyes away from the colours.
We’ve waved in passing.
And I was surprised by how beautiful your smile was.
But what do you do?
Who are you?
On a Friday night would I find you on a couch
or in a club? Would you be alone
wishing for someone to fall asleep on
watching some show neither of you like?
Have you heard of me, White?
Are you too shy to talk to me?
Does this writing speak to you?