Compulsory Heterosexuality

I love listening to your voice
Your beautiful, out-of-tune, half-assed, trying-to-annoy-me voice
Brokenly singing country music
Just to get a rise out of me, but
Maybe that's just girls being girls.

I love when you talk about how when you play basketball
And your face is red and your jaw's set
And you bite your lip from exertion and competition, like
"I could do this all day." I love that version of you, but
Maybe that's just girls being girls.

I love when you smirk
And tell me you'll teach me to do photography
And laugh and say, "you're such a dork."
And you like me anyway? I want to say, but
Maybe that's just girls being girls.

I love when you lean up against the wall
And your eyes crinkle up when you're laughing at a stupid thing I did,
And you roll your eyes when I say I like Imagine Dragons,
And you flip me off when I make a bad joke,
And your beautiful almond-shaped eyes grow hollow in the faint light,
And you answer history questions like a pro,
And you chuckle at how dorky and stupid I can be,
And you act tough and strong but you can't take a compliment,
And how you're scared of heights but not of people—
I think that's hot and I think I'm so lucky to know you—
But maybe, maybe
Maybe that's just girls being girls.