LUCES

I like him.
I don’t care if he’s just a friend.
I don’t care if I have to pretend that he feels more for me than he ever will.
I like him.
His mind’s a lazy river,
the surface slightly quivering as lilac petals drift soft and slow.
Mine always races,
taking me places I don’t want to go.
So, I like him,
for he’s cool while I’m hot.
Sweet like marigold, he’s everything I’m not,
and I like him—
his deep-sea eyes and summer-sun heart.
I like him—
his take-me-by-surprise, keep-me-on-my-toes smarts.
I like him,
and I think that can just be,
for I like him.
So it doesn’t matter if he never likes me.