I am your silly girl—
Yet here you stand, invested;
despite the smirk that pulls across your lips when you consider something smarmy.

I am your silly girl—
I blurt the ridiculous ramblings as they manifest behind my developing expression.
The flash of that very specific grin
when you’ve figured me out;
(you’re always figuring me out before I do)
followed by the briefest pause as you weigh your advancing words carefully:
Boy, I am enjoying this.
You’re so polite when you set me in my place, and it makes me want to kiss your face
Again and again and again.

I am your silly girl:
Paint stained fingers, tipped with clashing colors on cheap acrylic.
A homage to the blonde headed ditz with soul
A role I’ve always envied, but had been too smart to relax into.
(I stir my black coffee with twizzler sticks and eat lucky charms at midnight)

It has been so exhausting to exist without you:
Isn’t that funny?
I have spent thirty years establishing my lonely ant hill above everyone and everything else,
But within hours, I abandoned it all
to live among your interpretation of the world,
where I seek your translation every day.

Before you got here, I sought the validation that I was smart by ******* stupid men.
Today,
I have never felt as smart as I do, having decided to let myself love you.
I am your silly girl.