I
can always feel it begin.
It
starts with my skin.
The
tingling comes first
and
it starts down low,
inching
up my leg
and
past my thighs.
I
feel my stomach flutter and then
see
it as my chest flushes with heat,
quickly
followed by a blush
on
my cheeks.
My
lips can already taste it,
and
my hands are anxious to feel it,
nervous
energy making them
fidget
as I rub my neck,
massage
my shoulders,
trying
to relieve the tension,
the anticipation.
It’s
been terribly long, but I know it’s coming.
This poem first appeared on DiosRaw.com