Short her hair falls,
falls over glasses.
Silently calls.
The air is molasses.
Calming hand lands,
lands on my body.
I want'd this chance.
My mind is too shoddy.
Perfect is she,
she with the glasses.
Beautiful, funny,
the girl with the glasses.
Maybe she's too-
too perfect for me.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 11:29 PM UTC
Short her hair falls,
falls over glasses.
Silently calls.
The air is molasses.
Calming hand lands,
lands on my body.
I want'd this chance.
My mind is too shoddy.
Perfect is she,
she with the glasses.
Beautiful, funny,
the girl with the glasses.
Maybe she's too-
too perfect for me.
