Girl in sociology

The girl in sociology with crystals in her ears with her back to the teacher, bent and penning down her fears, or maybe she writes poetry in long straight inked out lines or maybe she writes stories, maybe she works nonspecific wordly designs
I don’t know her name or age but she’s next to me right now, her hair is short, she wears glasses, she’s always looking down and flipping through looseleaf paper clipped together, the table’s hardly strong enough to hold it.
I wonder what she studies yeah I wonder what she thinks, I wonder what it sounds like when her poems live in speech, I wonder what she’s doing here, I wonder what she wants, I wonder would she talk to me or how I’d come across.
Would she think I was a poet if she saw me typing now, would she think I was strange if she found out I watch her scribble down a diary, I watch the crystals in her ears, is she learning sociology, is she even really here or is she somewhere else, oh maybe I could go, our backs turned to the teacher and our faces towards the road.