• I sit behind you every day,
    with no choice but to look at your head.
    Your neatly trimmed hair calls for me to touch.
    I still my hand, to avoid your eyes.

    I sit behind you every day, and though I never speak,
    I know you, and you know me.
    You neck screams smoothness, and I so long to feel.
    I still my hand to avoid your gaze.

    I watch you every day,
    but today you didn't come.
    Perfect view of the teacher, sure,
    but I miss my view of you,
    as I sit, waiting for your return