Do I like you? Or your luscious hair.

Because it feels so soft, like the carpet on the stairs.

Do I like you? Or your glittering eyes.

Because if they're the windows to the soul, then surely you're an angel in disguise.

Do I like you? Or the clothes you wear.

Because I'd love to see your Pinterest board if you're willing to share.

Do I like you? Or your cheesy smile.

Because I swear if I were lactose intolerant, I'd give cheese a try.

Do I like you? Or the way your hands are bigger than mine.

Because I wouldn't say no if you let our fingers intertwine.

Do I like you? Or your academic prowess.

Because who knew "polar bears have transparent fur" would make me impressed.

Do I like you? Or your fulfilling job.

Because it would be so great if I ran a cutesy ceramic shop.

Do I like you? Or your terribly sarcastic humour.

Because we totally could be dating like all those rumours.

Do I like you? Or your perfectly straight posture.

Because my scoliosis could never let me be taller.

Do I like you? Or the way you hum when you're bored.

Because the birds whistling in the spring breeze could never match your vocal cords.

Do I like you? Or your impeccable manners.

Because my heart flutters when you escort me home and give me flowers.

Seriously, do I like you? 

Because I want to know.

Tell me I'm just bored or curious or obsessed. 

Because all this thinking is making me a little stressed.

I don't want this list to go on forever. 

Because I'm worried my glasses would break if we got together.

I'm blind. I'm cruel. I'm scared.

I know I like you but you caught me unprepared.

Because you're way too nice, I can't drag you this low

So even if I like, I guess I'll have to let you go.