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He loves me not, he says with blushing cheek. He'd rather die a fiery death than kiss A girl with zero sex appeal, a geek (he says it twice for extra emphasis). So why the constant stares? I ask. He lies. He hates the sight of me, he quickly shouts – Without the scorn his panicked oath implies. The dissonance contributes to my doubts. Alone one day, he smiles at me; I gasp. A joke? A lapse of judgment? Or perhaps A glimpse of truth at last within my grasp! I kiss his cheek and watch his walls collapse. A victory for me, like striking gold. For him, a death by kisses hot and cold.