Written about a boy in my math class. Not really a poem...but creative.

He has beautiful lips. When he's concentrating, his tongue explores the bottom one as if it's desperately seeking insight. My eyes secretly observe his actions. I pretend that I am indulged in the lesson that is being taught behind him. His eyes shut. He is apathetic to the information thrown at him. He knows it all already. I wonder what he's thinking about, about the hours of band practice he is missing or simply how bad he wants to leave this place. Opening his eyes, his gaze locks onto mine and for a moment, I can't divert it. His smile is amazing. Boyish and carefree. A devious grin that makes you wonder what mischievous act he's about to partake in. I look down at my paper, avoiding his stare, and scribble a few notes from the board. It's obvious that he could think of a million places he'd rather be than here. He removes his hat and runs his musician fingers through his hair. He finds momentary enjoyment on seeing how many ways he can bend the tattered hat, twisting it back and forth in his hands. I look at him and silently laugh at his actions, knowing they are a product of boredom; I feel it too. He grins at me, flashing his perfect teeth in my direction, and throws the hat back on his disheveled head. The lesson drones on and becomes too much to take. He gathers up his belongings and proceeds out the door, tipping his hat at the class before he goes. I watch him as he walks away from me, his body getting smaller and smaller with distance until there is nothing. Monday will come again and once more the process will continue.

I am infatuated with him.