“He hates his laugh.
To me, it’s a sweeter sound than my favorite song.
He dances like an idiot but his silliness is infectious.
When he’s here, I find myself turning the world around us into a dance floor.
He’s smart, and he knows it.
I know it too, which only makes me tease him more when he asks me how to spell third grade vocabulary words.
He thinks he looks like a dork in glasses.
Actually, I think he looks like a dork in glasses too, but that doesn’t change the fact that I think about kissing him every twenty minutes.
He molds his hardened hands into punches, curls them around footballs,
And traces them as soft as snowfall down the length of my scars.
I love him more than I can handle.”