Different kind of Wine.

I lie awake,
thinking if he is thinking of me.
I began to read,
yet all I saw,
were words scrambled,
into an image of him.
I lie here thinking of him,
sitting next to,
I think about our stolen glances,
blushed cheeks
and nervous eyes.
Although mere inches apart
we say nothing
but smile.
With that silence I wish to never leave,
with this silence I lie here,
thinking if he is thinking of me.