(Let me be.) and I just sit
and watch you twirl your
hair like you're lost in
some deep, dark thought
even though I know you're
really just counting down
the seconds to when you
can escape my star struck
hands and forget that we
had ever touched at all.
(I'm just not like you.) and
you push a strand behind
your oh-so-perfect ear, tucking
away every little piece of
the months passed in
secret kisses and sideways
looks and ever present
ridicule, like that voodoo
priest my mother ran out
of town years ago.
(This was never life or death.) and in a blink
you're gone, a ghost of a girl
hovering in the distance of my
subconscious longing, while the
evening sun plays tricks with my
dingy perception of what we
really were.

(Just let her be.)