she's been sitting there for over an hour.
her face looks tired, worn out, uninterested.
she hunches over her work, leaning her head on one hand.
she takes a sip of her coffee
and glances at a text that just came through;
a faint smile appears, then fades.
every once in a while she sniffs-
as if she's just getting over one of this season's inevitable colds;
that, or she's just very low on sleep.
i can see her pencil moving
slowly drawing, erasing, then drawing again.
she's got her ear buds in,
her dirty white tennis shoe slowly tapping to the music she hears.
she's in her own world now
just for a little while.
i can't help but wonder
what she's escaping into that world from.
and i wish, somehow, i could let her know
how beautiful her smile is.
i think i'll walk over, and i'll tell her.
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