When I think, I twirl my hair,
turn my head to the window and stare,
watch the snow fall from inside the cafe,
hear chattering voices , and belly laughs play.
When I can’t think, I squirm in my chair
zone out my gaze on the computer’s glare
words run together and letters blur
voices now torture as I stumble to sputter
When I think, I find myself gazing
at the stranger across from me.
Does he think I’m interested? Maybe.
Maybe I am…in who he is, is he in me?
When he’s thinking , is he watching me twirl my hair?
Does he want me to redirect my stare?
May be ?