A love poem to Alex

The question is what do you love?

I love the articulate writing ability
Her words turning inside your ears
Making you attentive,
Scribbling notes,
To catch every word she speaks
And paste it into your notebook for an abandoned day.

I love

I love her compassion,
Not hesitating to bring in a secret cupid present,
When a name is left out,
Forgotten in the emptiness of Strout’s canvas bag.

I love

I love her need to not fit in.
She rants daily,
Not caring what eavesdropping pupils are discussing about her current anger towards the matrices math homework done everyday in fourth period.
Because her irrefutable friends
Understand the frustrations that come with being a junior in high school
And embrace words,
Knowing that in her bag of love
There are plenty of organs to go around.