You sit quietly
With fidgeting hands
Lacing fingers into your own
That you wish were hers
Gravity from the black hole
That is the mid-west pulls you further
Into her stunning rings of brown eyes
Strawberry tipped, Large ******* and a mouth that could **** start a Harley
A pen in hand you doodle
Glancing up at a clock that should be melting
Going as slow as tree sap on a January morning
You wonder of she is careless or careful
Does she laugh that loud in person
Or only when she  occupies that space around her that glows