I'm no good at shifting gears
I slip into habits
Like rabbits into holes
Into the warmth and the safety
Of yesterday

Third seat from the front row
I sit in a free-seated class
Watch the sun or the fog or the rain
From the purple tinged glass
I won't move

And I have
This beautiful
Frame-of-vision-filling view
Of the back of your head
Your shoulders
Your arms
The patterns of blue and beige
That adorn your back

I slip every day into a daydream
Sometimes of me and you
We're holding hands or kissing
Or paddling a golden canoe
Through a passionfruited jungle of love
Or even a safe, brambly forest of friendship
Together
Whatever it is, I'm happy

I long sometimes to let my forehead slip
Let it fall on your shoulder
Let your chin graze my eyelid
But I'm afraid
And I feel a thousand stares
Looking not up at the teacher
But you and me
You and me
Put up together on a pedestal
Not allowed to touch

My heart thuds with the energy
Required to keep my mouth shut
And yet I don't have the strength
To open my mouth even once
And shift into high gear

One of these days I'll put aside my doubt
I'll sweep you off your feet
I'll kiss you and hold you and tell you I love you
And you'll say...
You'll say...
You'll say, I'm sorry we've never met

The daydream ends
You're tapping my shoulder
Pieces of paper poke my temple
"We have a pop quiz," you say
"Oh?" I fumble. Sit up. Blush. Start bubbling.
Then I stop and I whisper: "Hey, what's your name?"