“I’m not sure if he notices.
In fact, I know he doesn’t.
He doesn’t realize that looking at him is like watching the sun set.
It’s like seeing his cheeks turn pink as he smiles
with lips so red
I want to bite into them just to spill their color onto a canvas
and paint my bedroom wall with it.
It’s like staring when he runs his hand through burnt orange hair
as he speaks words so immaculate
they could fall to the ground
and become sunflowers by summer.
It’s like the warmth I feel
stealing a glance into his blue eyes;
they are a blanket that encircles me
slowly
until all that’s left is blackness.
He doesn’t notice
the same way he’s never noticed me.”