The Aftermath

BOOK 2.

It's the way he carries himself; I could watch him do simple nothing for days. It's the was he talks; It's like a song on repeat I cannot get out of my head, I listen to anything he has to say for as long as he allows. It's the way he makes me smile by doing nothing, the goosebumps that arrive in my arm when he touches me. The smile that grows when he looks at me. He doesn't notice how I'm hooked to the color of his eyes, the ways his hair is always just barely misplaced. How does he not notice? Ah that boy; my boy.