Seated side-by-side
in classes through the years,
victims to alphabetical seating,
I've come to know his movements.
Nervous motions
and trademark gestures,
I can tell when he's bored,
or angry,
or amused,
or restless.
Yet I barely know him.
Years of smalltalk,
but I can't even tell you
his birthday,
or his sister's name,
or his favorite band.
I can't tell you his weekend hobbies,
or his interests outside school,
or what his college plans are.
I can tell you
the color of his eyes
or his favorite pen,
and he might be able
to tell you the shape of my ring
or how I like to wear my hair,
but he won't know
my middle name,
or the type of car I drive,
or my weekend plans.
Certainly he won't know
that all the while I've watched him,
I always knew that
the seat next to him
was the closest I'd ever get.

04/25/2001

Posted on 09/20/2002
Copyright © 2025 Amanda J Cobb