I don't know what boundaries are anymore 320 poems later, did I step in alone or were you there too,
I have a slip of memory,
when you casually took the initiative and passed my water bottle to a friend of mine whom I couldn't reach.
I shared a laugh for the first time with you.
*For the first time with you again*
*Because of you,* I laughed dozens of times.
We are set in the same classroom, in the same school.
And I know you and your moves.
I just didn't mind thinking of your funny attitude again.
When you took it with two fingers, trying to reach your hand in my direction, I could see you smiled too.
We are not there yet to share them,
but heard me.
Why am I wondering when I knew you would be?
When I gave you smiles and waves,
and sometimes it did not even work,
I waited unresponsive to wait for yours.
But you had answered, just differently.
I misunderstood your humor over time,
because you grew from the other side.
But still, I laughed for a bit.
Even though I thought some of them were a cup of tea with what I wouldn't fit.
But I see it was right,
when you asked and got nothing left but waited for me to step in,
*since you were waiting for a turn to check if I am alright with being talked to,*
*and I just knew,*
and turned around and said: "I have one!"
I had already grabbed my bag,
but still, you asked, *since you were waiting for a turn to check if I am alright with it,* "May I? That would be nice."
Even though I had already answered with yes.
When I gave it to you, you said thank you twice.
As you were done, even though I had seen me coming, you said, "Lisa, here is your ---,"
*since you wanted to make sure I could make a turn around.*
I unplugged it after I said thank you and took the cable from your hands again, saying: "Thank you."
Copyright ©
Adna Demiri
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