It's got to be boredom...right?

I'm bored.
Maybe that's why I'm noticing many things,
Many funny things.
Like the fact that my sweater,
my old, old sweater,
has pictures of a cat
standing on a pig,
in front of a dog
wrapped in a million bandages.

 Maybe that's why I'm noticing him.
The boy with the deepest eyes,
the strongest arms,
The thick, unruly brows,
The wild afro, the smoothest beard,
that ugly but intriguing scar
over the dimple in his cheek,
the most shapely lips,
complete with that dangerous, lopsided,
beautifully amazing smile...

Oh dear...it's boredom isn't it?