It Meant Something to Her

She was listening to his spit-up on her computer;
folk indie made her warm.
The sun shone through her curtains
making shapes upon the wall.

French music played romantically
on his computer in his room.
The language barrier confused her
and she walked away feeling different.

But every time she walked by,
his eyes telescoped into her body
and everything spun around
loudly and so fast.
And he was ashamed that
he could only describe her
in simple terms.

He would say "fuck it",
she would said "okay".
But he felt brash and just like that,
he lost her.

In the sudden, swirling of two teenagers
vowing likes for each other,
touching skin to skin
Going on dates and
paying for meals at cheap restaurants,
and the growth of boy into man
and she
figuring out her clothes in the morning
and how to tell him she doesn't like him anymore.

She rarely saw him,
but when the moment was right
sometimes the sun would catch his face
and letters would dance down his nose
and to his lips, he would say "hey"
and she,
"hello".