The First Move and Last

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The First Move and Last

My palms feeling sweaty,

An escalating heat fills the room,

Heart palpitations increasing,

Not knowing what I should do,

My pulse starts to race,

Mouth agape from which no words emanate,

Foot twitches rapidly,

Stuttering when I begin to speak,

Paranoid of her discomfort,

Fearful that it’s too soon,

Worried about rejection,

Not knowing what I should do,

Wishing for a magical connection,

A mutual telepathic moment,

As our heads turn toward one another,

And our lips simultaneously converge,

Never wanting to make her uncomfortable,

An excuse to which I resort,

As I sit here and ponder,

Not knowing what I should do.

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