I love her;
The way she tends to straighten my hood
Like when I poke her in the back
And her posture fixes,
Or maybe I poke her in the side nearest to me
And that way she would fall into me
So I could swoop my arm around her back
And maybe she'd do the same,
When we hold hands on our daily walk to the bus
And she realizes my request to do so
Without me touching her hand first,
And when we turn into that alley
To forget about the world behind us
To find a new life in each others lips;

If only she used them to speak.