so I may know how it feels to
float on air and be on cloud nine;
so I may know how it feels to
be weak in the knees and to have
butterflies in my stomach; or
have my heart break into a sprint
at the very thought of him, or
blush and stutter in his presence;
so I may at last be able
to declare that all the love songs
finally make sense to me. But
I don't think I'm ready for that.
So hasten not, love. Take your time.
-Nocturnal Scribe
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© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012
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