A flick of the mouth at an overheard joke,
Something she half hoped I'd see,
But when I looked over the smile had broke.

Conversations turning to topics that make others choke,
Of all girl schools and glastonbury.
The kind of person who acts as if they've been snorting coke.

A childish sentence for us to prod and poke;
My immaturity getting the better of me,
Her laughs making her voice croak.

And through it all, a friendship we stoke;
feelings of debonaire anxiety,
It's not what is expected of normal folk.

I wasn't sure if it were a hoax
when her eyes gave that worrysome decree.
From her stories a subjunctive awoke.

Then she was gone, dagger and cloak
And others did agree,
No goodbye message or hidden toke.
It was likely warranted, hurtful, to do with her bloke.