I do remember that night.Azariah’s birthday.
A few days before my departure.
I was feeling at my coolest with my pulp fiction shoes
and Shoreditch smirk.
He’s never spoken to me before.-but I knew him (though), obviously.
Point is, he was stylishly messy with blue eyes and
a thing for vintage frames.
He said ‘hi, come over’ in his dry tone voice
Whilst caressing the empty chair next to him.I was surprised that he had seen me from this Fresh prince infused room.
Not to mention, I had been salivating over him for an hour or so.
I guess he had noticed my evident charm and wit.
It was only natural; I jumped over hills from a menial gesture from this-Self-discipline vintage framed boy but no no no
I fucking tripped over my own ankles
Maybe I should have gotten new shoes or something?