one. hello

First impression of you.
Straight, black hair.
Soft brown eyes.
A sullen, hard mouth that suggests your smiles are rare.

But how do I say it?
First impression,
and it’s already too late.
hello I want to say.

There’s nothing keeping me from
saying it,
at least not physically,
but oh, everything in the world,
tells me it isn’t so.

You’re walking past me now;
my cheeks are burning bright red
Quick, before chances slip by,
and are kept forever past,
I chide myself.

“hello.”

Someone’s said that dreaded word.
There’s no mistaking it;
it can only be he,
Who’s whispered softly for me.