Sunday, January 29, 2012

Shy

You touch my hand

The world's on fire

No one accurately depicted desire

Never have I known it at all

'Til your hand brushed mine,

Did you hear my heart stall?

Never has a chilling breeze

Sent such a shake through my spine

Or so weakened my knees

Folding my fingers into my palm

I brush a hand through my hair

I try to look calm

Your hand's in your lap

Pulling on your canvas bag strap

As I flip the page in my book

From the corner of my eye, I catch your look

I glance at you, you turn away

Your cheeks are as red as your eyes are grey

If I should reach out, and take your hand,

Would we fall in love, however unplanned?

Perhaps we will eventually

But the one who moves first

Will not be me


© 2012

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