She is like a song,
That wawers your heart,
a bit sad and happy at the same time.
she dances her dance,
she gives me her speech,
she agrees and dissagrees with me,
although i haven't said a thing.
She tells me about her favourite movie,
she changes topics freequently,
she randomly looks at me
to see if i am listening,
and i listen,
and i watch,
her movements,
her eyes get bigger as she
gets in the story,
she moves her hands a lot while talking,
the curl on top of her head is out if place
and it bounces while she speaks,
she scolds me for staying up late,
eaven if she is the one keeping me up,
and i don't mind,
i silently listen,
but what could i simply say,
when she already knows
my answers.
And if anybody loved me,
only the third of what i love her,
they would go crazy in a second.