Sonnet for What’s Between the Lines

by Phoenix Alarcio

How do I know I am captivated by you?
Your googly eyes, dark as bark arrest me
like I’m a high schooler playing hooky,
caught pants down in the janitor’s room.

Why do I say I’m going, but I’m not out the door?
My questions, sharp as darts at an Irish bar,
pierce your alveoli. Your answers on par
with Yoda make me stop keeping score.

I see you in an unsolicited script I unearthed
between the cushions of the orange couch,
at work. I can’t help but think it’s divine, a sign,
though I don’t believe in God. Maybe flirt
and find out? Maybe fuck and fall out?
Boy, tell me again, what are my lines?