I’m trying to write a poem about you
but all I can think of
is the song that you showed me.
The one that you want me to sing for you.

I am stuck on you
like chewing gum
under those desks we talk to.
Scribbling down lyrics on the wood
from songs that weren’t made for us
but fit
like I know my hand would in yours.

My voice may not have sung for you yet
but my heart is an entire orchestra.

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