In an unfamiliar place,
his lips bare familiar taste.
Reminiscent of a school crush or puppy love, though, I am having urges that are not fit for a child.
My heart is both playful and serious.
The bassline draws me in.
Pulls me closer.
I don't know where I'm going,
but I know that I will like it there.
Swaying.
Uncontrollably shaking,
yet floating,
as a feather.
My heart pounding.
The bassline forcing the blood to pump through me.
As I push forward,
the crowd begins to part.
My eyes are closed, but I feel the rhythm drag me between them.
I'm shy and want to run the other direction, but my body doesn't allow it.
I'm getting closer.
The butterflies dance inside of me.
Along with the bassline.
The heat is unbearable and I can't stand to hold my eyes shut anymore.
I open them.
The music fades.
I see him.
Inches from my face.
The familiar taste has left my lips.
I begin to realize that there is no music.
The bassline, indeed, is my heartbeat.
I haven't been dancing or floating.
People are brushing past us all around.
The crowd had not parted.
It was him that pulled me in.
I have barely moved.
The butterflies remained.
I let out a sigh and feel as though I'm falling.
It was but a kiss that spun my world.
This isn't puppy love at all.
This is passion.
The bassline is inside of me from my head to my toes.
The urges are real and not fit for a child.
I am ready.
I am in love.
**-kd