Daydreams of stolen kisses and chance meetings are feasted upon as the day's hours pass on.
This idea, this delicious hope of...something...fed with tiny slivers of bashful maybe's. Blushing behind hands of timidly needed affection, teasing the mind with thoughts of brushing fingertips.
Memories of school-girl embarrassment envelope our bodies into a renewed, awkward jumble of limbs and gaits and nervous laughter.
Glimpses of him from across the room, eyelids fluttering with conscious fervor.
Knowing that any chance is held within his grasp, far from the control of my slender fingers.
Content though in that knowledge, willing to stake time and affection on lady luck in this crowded room.
Foolishly walking toward abandoned territory, praying that when our eyes meet they both flicker with mischievous wonderment of having a childish crush.
Come on skinny love, just last the year
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