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May 2018
I’m nervous to be with you,
Little fireworks dancing in my stomach.

I’m nervous to speak to you,
Afraid that I’ll end up speaking in a different language.

I’m nervous to hear you,
Something so foreign yet so familiar in my dreams.

I’m nervous to smell you,
Will you smell more like the cappucino you swirl in your cup each morning
Or more like the panettone you help your mamma make on Sunday’s?

I’m nervous to look at your eyes,
To see those beautiful chocolate brown occhi stupendi stare right back into mine,
Little do you know I’m swimming them.

I’m nervous to see those perfect lips,
Lips that I would drink in like the red wine I swallowed like a pill,
To try to forget about you.

I’m nervous to see your face,
A face that I would recognize with my hands if I were ever blindfolded.

I’m nervous to touch you,
Even the slightest brush of hands would make my body tingle.

I'm nervous for you,
what will you think of me?
AuburnRose
Written by
AuburnRose  Chicago
(Chicago)   
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