Junior High Heart Song

A poem.

It sounds corny

And very juvenile

But all the while

Your eyes are kissing my skin

I begin to feel

Butterflies breeding in my stomach

Like in junior high, but I can't take it--

They never flew so fiercely, then or now,

Delirium glittering on my lower brow,

And I can't begin to comprehend how

You make my sour into sweet

You make me recognize defeat

I eat my words and swallow my heart

When I start to form those puerile words

Childish and silly and inanely absurd--

Innately, pathetically, I hear myself plea:

I like you. Go steady with me.