Locker Seventeen

You walked in with your hoodie up. Hair a mess, coffee cup.

I smiled like I always do. You said, "Late again?" And I said,

"You too." Your sneakers squeak on hallway floors. But I still hear them like

a score to a movie that's just stars, in math class and behind the

lockers. And maybe we're just seventeen but this feels bigger than it

seems. Meet me by locker seventeen, where your eyes say more than

you mean. Where your hand brushes mine in time, forgets to count

the signs. They all say we're just too young, but I say