She sat there before me looking
like she did when we were ten,
so amazing, her thighs have grown,
here hips, I've never seen her like this,
I used to push her away when we
were younger, she just wasn’t one
of the "it" girls, now I see what
mild does, she moved away in her
sophomore year in High school, now she
sits before me on the train, I wonder
if she notices me, maybe not, she has
her face buried in her book,
The Disposition of Utopia Wright
the cover reads, I'll have to check
that book out, the way her eyes are
glued to it must be good, my stop
and she still hasn't noticed me,
so sad