butterflies flutter away at the back of my mind,
it's chemistry with biology,
cuddled with mystery,
i hope it doesn't be history.
i put my high heels on,
link my fingers around his arm,
i never imagined i'd do this ever
work my way into fevers.
he doesn't mind
i'm leaving lipstick stains on his lips,
i'm resting myself on his shoulder
to feel closer to him,
he doesn't know
his warm skin is fire and heat,
it's melting me within.
he doesn't know but i'm sure he has thought it through:
he could touch me
and i feel i will bloom,
pink cheeks will erase all of the gloom,
i think he knows
i'm smitten.
oh dear lord, what am i doing?
he's one glorious mistake.
