Goddess in Orange
by Krys Baker from Madison High School
Published in the 2006-2007 WITS Anthology Mostly What I’m Made Of
I watch you.
Today your dark-red hair is down,
So I reach up and push it behind your ear, out of the way.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I earn a smile.
Small headshake and you’re back behind your curtain.
Don’t do that, but it happens every time.
The coffee cup sits on the table,
The smoke drifts from your mouth.
I’m watching you, and you don’t like it, won’t meet my stare.
I make you nervous; I try not to because
I want to move forward, not fall back or be pushed.
I treasure every moment in your presence.
I look forward to seeing you all week,
I’m sitting in my chair calmly, but inside
I’m hanging on every word you utter.
Receiving that one small smile, hearing you laugh,
Watching you, knowing you
I’m all a-jitter.
Standing up to go, you for class, I for work,
My arms surround you as we near your car.
“What?” once more.
Again, “Nothing.” I’m just rather fond of you, you know.
“I don’t see why” or “don’t say that” comes from your mouth,
But I always say the same thing to that, though never out loud.
You don’t like it.
I love you.
I don’t see why you don’t.
