The girl from the Italian restaurant
Gives me a smile every time I go out for smoke.

We say silent “hi”s to eachother from afar
And I always give her my best smile back

And over the course of each smoke I try to catch a glimpse of her
And she does the same thing back

I know because we sometimes catch eachother
Looking at eachother
And we smile at eachother again.

I know nothing about her
Other than she works across from my building

And she is cute as a button
And she has a smile that makes me feel great and nervous

And she knows nothing about me
Except that I like to smoke

She counts how many, and holds up her hand to remind me
One, then two, then three so far

And I’m up for killing myself faster, four, five
To get a few more smiles a day.

I know we’ll never actually talk
I can’t imagine ever knowing her name

I don’t know why she started smiling at me
Yet I wonder why people don’t do it more

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