We talk about our sweaty palms,
Cautious, careful to avoid
The slightest touch.
Knees gently bump beneath tables,
I flinch back as a flame,
One I want so badly,
Begins to lick at my heels,
Consuming me.
Memories flood my racing thoughts
As I slip your shirt over my head,
Hair messy from fearful fingers
I have no choice but to keep busy,
Because if I don't,
They might find their way to yours.