the fat girl sits across the room.
she looks bored.
she leans her head on her hand,
staring off into the world.
her eyes look tired,
she is writing now,
occasionally looking up at the teacher.
her face is devoid of emotion,
passionless in all respects
and intriguing for that reason.
What lies beneath this stoic exterior?
What joy, what feeling, what passion
hides beneath the surface?
she is a beautiful girl,
but she might catch me glancing over
in her direction
and I haven't decided, yet, if I want her to.