The Seat Behind Mine

The first time I met him
He was in the row next to mine.
One conversation became two
and two became many.
And so the stranger who sat in the other row,
Became the boy in the seat behind mine.
I started asking him questions I knew the answers to,
asking for pens I already had,
and turning around for no reason but to talk.
Until one day,
there was no reason to turn around anymore.
Now our classes have changed,
‘and so have our seats.
My body has learnt to not turn around anymore
to ask those stupid questions
and to use my own pens.
Because when I do,
I see notebooks and I see pens,
‘but most of all, I see stranger.