Her Type

I can’t believe she even
said, albeit under her breath,
that I was her type,
as if she had a type.
Trust me, I’d know by now.
I’ve never typed her name
before—never had a reason to,
and I don’t care what she thinks.
In class, I glanced over her shoulder,
watching her type texts between
her unlikeable friends.
She runs across my thoughts,
printing words within my heart.
I can’t help but admit that she’s my type.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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