infatuation poem


want the sun to wash my feet w her hair
i am out of something
        but it isnot love
            anyway HOW SHOULD I KNOW
    im like
     over here in the smartkid class 
      getting looked at by the walls
where the walls are not your lips
     i think i had my hands on
      yr hips
      then you moved them to yr chest
      and i moved back down
        and then we went to sleep
    and i kissed you good bye
    in the morning
    i whispered why i was leaving
    you smiled