I heard the click before I saw you.
You said the crappiest pickup line that I had ever heard of.
Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.
Your smile was like the chocolate syrup on an ice cream sundae.
But sickeningly sweeter.
Your hair was like golden yarn spun from the sun.
I knew that I never be blinded by that silky golden hair.
Your lips looked like the colour of freshly picked strawberries.
I was about ready to devour them, imagining the saccharine taste of them.
I gave you a snarky answer in return.
When I got home, my mom asked me why did I have a phone number written on my forearm.
I smiled, picking up the telephone.