And that is all I see
or hear:
your blonde hair
in the dark,
your words,
"Can I kiss you again?"

And then it's your hand
on my cheek,
my skin.
In my head,
the thoughts of
my mother's disappointment.

And now I am afraid
just to send a text
because you like her.
I am only hopeless.
You are the only thing
revolving my brain.