Anne-Marie Christine Poetry

I was hoping he would be there
At the gathering
We were seated next to each other
And innocently
Our hands had touched
My heart began to race as if I were running
I felt feverish to the point of near perspiration
I was captured
And held hostage in a trance
Gazing at his hands
I imagined the way they caress
Staring at his lips
I longed to feel them against mine

He was the one
The man who brought the symptoms of love
He possessed the power to bring me to my knees
With just a touch

Poet: Anne-Marie Christine