Initial Glance
by
SLAM
Was it the first dance?
Or the initial glance,
non-verbal communication,
an unconscience invitation.
Was it the smile on your face?
My hands around your waist,
as our bodies came close and moved at music's pace,
our souls water, like our mouths curious for a taste.
How can intimacy like this be felt in such a public place?
Or could these emotions be taken for mistake?
Attraction is like pain difficult to fake.
My focus rest on the fullness of your lips,
natural sweeter than brownsugar covered plantain chips.
Hour glass symetry the curves strong at your hips,
our eyes meet words expressed but unspoken.
Locked doors are now open.
This moment exist in time only to be frozen,
the very same chill tickles our spines.
Secret desires tip-toe through our minds,
pictures of extasy bodies intertwined.
Architects of our own design.