You make me gush out giggles, I feel the butterflies, I feel them


They fly.





And all I can do is smile when I see you, pretend that you are mine





Pretend that every glance where we meet matters
and that someday, I'll be in your arms,
your awkward stance, that reassuring smile,
your hand slightly holding mine, but not too long to
make anything too certain.

You let out a chuckle, and tell me words I can't escape.

Yet, I can't anyway. I'm stuck.

Empedocles