It's always 7:45

when I see you

in the classroom,

pretending to be busy,

of something unimportant.

I would rehearse

everything I want to say

the night before,

and stay awake,

imagining what you would say,

in return.

This was our bittersweet honey,

that we feed upon,

every morning,

never knowing its certain

outcome.

Well,

The both of us have tried.

But we never have tried

hard enough,

to say and admit

what we truly,

and deeply,

feel.