To the boy I haven’t yet met, but surely knows he’ll meet me:


As we stand face to face for the very first time, you’ll likely think me uninterested.

I’ll smile big enough and laugh, call you kid as we wave goodbye,

But I won’t have said enough to give you the hint that my heart was beating like a New York minute.

I won’t be the loud, brash girl you expected me to be

The first two months of knowing me will be a slideshow of grins and half-funny jokes

As I think you don’t care for me.


But just wait it out.

This poem is about: 


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