She Thinks I'm Introverted

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I'm on the far end of the car;

Scared of falling in love again.

She must think I'm introverted, but I'm furthest from that.

My nerves chatter my teeth.

Chills run the length of her spine when I reach over to clasp her hand in mine.

I spill my drink on her at a drive-in movie.

She must think I'm introverted, but I'm furthest from that.

Chills run the length of my spine.

She laughed and took it with a grain of salt.

She must think I'm introverted, but I'm furthest from that.

Stop the shyness, she said, flirtatiously hitting my stomach.

She must think I'm introverted, but I swear to God, I'm not.

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