This is about a girl who has a crush on the pizza boy but is too afraid to talk to him. I've been working on how to make it flow and to use metaphors and descriptions but in poems you have a short amount of time and space to do that... needless to say its not my strong suit. Your input is always welcome.
The Pizza Delivery Boy
The slick black Ford pulls up and my heart flutters to a stop,
for the sixth time this week,
the aroma of freshly made dough fill the space between us.
A black baseball cap and grease splattered polo shirt climb out of the roaring beast,
pizza in hand he climbs the steady stairs,
all the way to the top, my already rosy cheeks reveal their true color.
Awkward silence lingers above us,
T-Rex sized tension disguised in an inanimate smile,
I give him three dollars tip.
He turns to leave; I've lost my chance,
along with my courage to stop him and say…
for the seventh time this week the smell of freshly made dough fill the space between us.