The First Move and Last

The First Move and Last

My palms feeling sweaty,
An escalating heat fills the room,
Heart palpitations increasing,
Not knowing what I should do,

My pulse starts to race,
Mouth agape from which no words emanate,
Foot twitches rapidly,
Stuttering when I begin to speak,

Paranoid of her discomfort,
Fearful that it’s too soon,
Worried about rejection,
Not knowing what I should do,

Wishing for a magical connection,
A mutual telepathic moment,
As our heads turn toward one another,
And our lips simultaneously converge,

Never wanting to make her uncomfortable,
An excuse to which I resort,
As I sit here and ponder,
Not knowing what I should do.