every day,
i question whether you like me
because
you don't want exclusive,
but we've usually spent
at least one night every
weekend,
together in my sheets.

we also talk every day,
and sometimes at night.

and to add to that,
we've been top best friends on
snapchat,
for two weeks straight.

and last weekend,
i asked you what you
like to read
because i know you
read a lot in your free time
and party less.

you weren't too specific,
but i told you i love poetry.
you said you didn't mind it.

so, i gave you a copy of
one of my poetry books today
with sticky notes marking
the poems that i enjoy the most.

and when you rode the bus
home from work today,
you sent me a line
from one of those poems
that i enjoy the most.

i still don't know whether
you like me the way
i wish you did, but
i don't see a lot of guys
reading poetry gave
to them by their lady friends.

and i don't see a lot of guys
acknowledging the fact that they
are reading those poems given
to them by their lady friends.

I like running my little fingers
against the sides of your head
where I can feel the bits
of the forehead sweat
you claim to be the
effects of stress.

And I like the way you
move your hands
around my chest
to my little,
mountain *******.

And I would tear
a too-cool-for-school,
city slicker vest off of you.

It's true
you're my addiction,
my highest fixation.
Oh, I don't need vindication
cause I have no regrets.

You're kissing up on my neck.
Slow steps.
I can't even hold my breath,
but you've got me speechless.

And some girls like the boys
who steal the show in an
overworn muscle tee.
But as for me, I like my boys
a little more preppy.

So let's pour some
wine and whiskey.
You got me frisky
as you walk my way.

Stay. Come over to my place.
Claim that bed like I've let you
take my body.

No stopping.
Heart throbbing.
I
want
you.

i bet you never had
someone hit you
so hard
like a wave.

i bet you never
thought the day
would come
where someone
would be so eager
to stay.

well i can’t make
any promises,
and you can’t expect
to do the same either,
but when i look at you,
something speaks truth,
and i just gotta
tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

on friday night,
do you like to watch horror movies?
or are you the type,
to hang with your groupies
and smoke a doobie outside?

well, i’d choose neither.
and i **** at pulling
all-nighters,
but this little song
is not about me.

hey there,
hey you,
when i look at you,
something speaks the truth,
and i just gotta tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

they say if you ever lose
your sense of spark,
then something isn’t right.

and i can’t promise
to always be your sunshine,
but i’ll try and i’ll try
to always be the light.

if you’re in a room,
and you feel the gloom,
and nothing feels like
it’s going right,
look at me,
and you’ll see
somebody who likes

the way that you are,
the way that you do,
oh, you, hey you,
i’m digging you.

cause when i look at you,
something speaks truth,
and i just gotta
tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

i bet you never had
someone hit you
so hard
like a wave.

i bet you never
thought the day
would come
where someone
would be so eager
to stay.

i wanna know everything.
because you’ve got that something,
that i can’t explain.

Wehaveasecret.

Wehaveasecret.
And for those of you
I’d love to tell,
You probably would not
Believe me,
Or he would deny it
Because who
Would believe me,
When it's him?

When I walk these halls,
I flashback to my first week.
That Friday.
A Couch.
Hometown *****.
Captain America.
Some Happy Gilmore Production.
And then, The Mighty Ducks.

That smile really sold me,
As if he didn’t know how to sell me enough.
And he isn’t as ***** as you think,
It wasn’t a nightmare, but more
Of a daydream.

I rejected his first try
After testingteasing him
For three hours.

Finally, I gave in.

It probably won’t happen again
Although I’ve pressed at
The idea a few times
After drinking a few too many
A week later with
A bunch of you,
And you, him, of course.

But it won’t he says.
And I’m not sure if I believe him
Becuase the lines between flirtation
And friendship is blurred
And the lines between
A look and that look,
Remind me
Of those Calvin's he
Stripped down to.