I think about you a lot.
Do you? Yes, especially
when you're not near.
John looks towards the

sports field at the school.
Why about me? I don't know.
Elaine has let the words
out, but they're like

uncontrollable hounds.
I guess I think of you, too.
Do you? He nods his head;
sees a blackbird go in a hedge.

What do you think about?
You. What about me?
He looks at her, sees her eyes
like large puddles behind

her cheap-bought specs.
Did you mind? Mind what?
Me kissing you? She feels
his eyes on her; she tries

to hold the words in some
kind of order. No; I didn't mind.
He looks away; sees other
kids at play. I didn't mean to

upset you, just kind of happened.
What did? The kissing, the kiss.
She feels unsure; wonders
whether the kiss was meant

or not. Did you mean to kiss me?
He looks at her again; he sees
how dark her hair is close up.
Sort of, wanted to. He's not good

at words with girls; they make
his words come out all wrong.
Unexpected, she  says, the kiss.
He nods, sees how soft her lips

( up close) now seem. Not kissed
a girl before. He watches her
scratch her head; her fingernails
seem chewed. Not been kissed

before; not by a boy, she adds.
She wants to say more; tell him
how it makes her feel inside;
how since the kiss, she's felt opened

up like an oyster in someone's palm,
waiting to be ****** out and in, but
she doesn't, she just stares at his nose
and a few protruding light brown hairs.