Smitten, for he is a poem I have not yet written.
Both of us shy, and sore of lips from being bitten…
He got closer.
I stood contemplating my heart- my keys and letting him in…
A stranger at distance, and a lover to win.
I had considered because I want to live in his moment.
His eyes studied mine as he saw that I owned it.
Racing as I made the decision to speak,
Walking with strength in my legs though my knees had gone weak…
He blushed red. I blushed bronze through my brown skin,
Grabbing my key hoping he’d know to come in.
And his voice still rings in my ear…
I took my own dare, and began my own cheer.
Curiosity has gave me birth instead of death,
Foreshadowing the moments we’ll share the same breath.
I reckon, that he felt the exact same flame,
Because his skin felt like fire when he reached and whispered his name.