So there’s this girl in my calculus class,
And Juan says there’s not much to her.
Laughing like a preteen kid,
I mildly disagree;
I shut up as I sit up straight.
Her pale greenish-blue eyes catch mine.
Is there a shade of green to them,
Or is the light playing tricks on me?
I never find out…
The professor wants the curves integrated.
So I drown myself in the melody,
Of the pencil scratching on paper…
The class is over;
Almost a day has passed.
The clock strikes quarter to seven.
I run across the campus,
Visiting every last one of my secret shortcuts.
It’s past seven…
I’m ten minutes late;
There’s no surprise to that!
The classroom’s locked.
The lights are put out.
The corridors are silent.