i like this.
i like the way
your voice dips
into a velvety murmur
as you lean toward me,
like the books shouldn’t even
hear us;
i like the jokes
you tell me
like i’m in the front row
of your act and you
want me to get it;
i like the twinge of my
stomach as i try
not to laugh too hard
among the sweepings
of pages and the clickings
of computer mice
i like how you tell me
that you’re glad i came
smirking as you rush
to grab the door
before i do,
walking alongside me
like some boy’s loyal
hunting dog
(i like this
i like this
i like you)