A Fleeting Rush of Green

The disease of over-analysis.

Providing false hope, misguiding tone

Causing them all to titter and blush

Though a colossal black hole separates you

Stoking the flames, evoking aims

Emitting a sense of romantic interest

To the crowd who swoons as your lips move

Strictly platonic but appearing erotic

Speaking the language of your soul

But can they properly interpret your dialect?

God, you're oblivious. Or am I delirious?

Maybe there is a case to both claims

But both are a catalyst of my torment

Author's Note

Not aiming for logic or validity, just giving words to a panicked and hot moment.

Reviews

[Nisreen]

Not learning of intention
As everything looks like a haze
It's pure agony

[Cobblestone Traveler]

Indeed, it can be agonizing. Thank you for your review.

[several thousand]

Fantastic poetry. You paint a whole scene here.
I loved the rhyming scheme it flowed very well.
Read it a few times over to get the full effect, loved it more every time!
Really, really well done on all aspects of poetic criteria! =]

[Cobblestone Traveler]

Wow, that's high praise. Thank you very much!