" The Seat By The Window"
The Student:
I sat by the window,
where the sun could catch
the corner of your mouth
as you spoke.
Your voice
not thunderous,
but sure,
a quiet storm in a pressed shirt.
I took notes,
pretending the words mattered more
than the shape of your hands
as they danced over the desk.
You didn't notice me
not really.
Just another girl
in a sea of too many questions
and not enough answers.
But I saw everything.
How your shirt hugs your body when you sit.
How your eyes glazed when you read.
How your jaw clenched
whenever someone challenged you
and how I almost did,
just to see it again.
I didn't know your name
until I searched it later
like a secret,
typing slowly
as if the keys could betray me.
You made me curious.
Not in the way I'd admit aloud
but in that deep buried kind,
the kind that keeps you up at night
without shame.
You were too young to be here,
too refined.
The kind of beauty that feels
accidental
and dangerous.
I should've looked away.
But I didn't.
I think I liked how it felt
to let my gaze linger
a little longer
than polite.