There’s a girl in southern Connecticut who drinks caramel fraps faithfully
and sings Billy Joel with everything she’s got
with such conviction and clarity
and I know its only because she couldn’t do it any different
like she’d die if anything she did wasn’t committed from passion.
But you know something?
she can’t make eye contact without biting her bottom lip
when she talks about that boy Mike and god damn,
its like one of my favorite things on this planet.
Is that wrong?
Her mouth does these unconscious half grin thing
you know, the little smile that just sneaks up on you
and not a thing could be done to stop it.