Triptych Fascination - 3. It's Not Like That

She thinks she knows my mind.
She thinks she recognises those glances,
from the glances she gets from boys
she dances with on Saturday nights;
but it's not like that with us.

We're too subtle for any of that.
We've practiced our teenage crushes,
so that our little signs don't show
to those ignorant of our strange ways;
but it's not like that anyway.

She thinks she understands me,
Known me so long how could she mistake?
But there's the problem, because
seeing isn't always knowing;
and it's not like that with me.

I'm not like them, or that crowd.
I'm not like her Saturday nights,
nor like those other stereotypes
I dance and glance in my own style
and it's not like that anyway.