All that cliche heartleap stuff

All that cliché heartleap stuff:

it happens when I hear you’re coming over,

when my phone vibrates and it’s your face I see,

and I think  how  banal

 that  this  thing

should  be  happening

to  me.         

When you let me lay my head on your shoulder

I wanted to take myself outside,

quote my own poems at my puddle-reflection,

put a water pistol in my mouth

and beat myself about the head

with a printed PDF

of  The  Romance  Myth,

saying  you  are  not  the  kind  of  girl

who  falls  for  this,  remember,

and also I didn’t.

When you kissed me on the lips before you left

I didn’t know where I should put the stress:

the kiss,

the leaving.