The moment the sun rises, you should await your object.                                             The object of your affection.

Separation Anxiety should be eating away at your brain.                                            Your standing across from their home, but your only seconds away from their home. Appreciate the way they cut their grass or get the mail.

Give them your morning gaze.

School is in section. You  do not have the same classes!

Be there the moment that class ends.

The bell rings.

The voices triumph.

leave the answers to the Pre-Calculus test in his locker-- World studies answers-- oh yes! Sealed with a kiss.

You stand one person behind them in the lunch line. They grab that chicken surprise. Your favorite.

You watch them from across the lunch room as you sit at that table with those voices. You have to go tell them how good they look in green, or how good they devour the skin off that chicken.

Yes!

They  talk to their friends. Those people trying to flirt with what is yours!

Your object.

Shhhhh! Do not fret, we know that one belongs to you.

They walk home, your only so far behind, but just remember you will be making that same walk --down the aisle-- oh of course.

They make the turn on Ohio street, then make a short cut through Ms. Tinsley's yard. They are always trying to get away so easily. You are not going to let this one go.

Oh you just want to come so close that you inhale each other breaths, but you have to allow them to grow.

At home, the bed is in the center of your room. You are surrounded by the pictures of you  guys "together".

Your favorite is the one where you cut out Obama's head and placed your object in.

Oh what power they hold now.

Yes! you sit and imagine them kissing you so sweetly and gently.

Their lips just brushes against your lips.

You feel your heart bursting into a billion pieces, as the pieces began to float to your feet.

Stop shaking the feeling.

You have the urge.

The only thing that is keeping you apart is that window pane.

Admire the way he counts the hairs on his chest.

Admire the way he brushes her hair a hundred times --65, 66, 67, 68-- oh yes! call him, you must!

It is your duty.

Your objective.

Leave thatvoice mail: "' I can't wait to be together'" hahahahah. "'Really--'"