a look
a touch
your sense of being
draws him like a moth to flame
that demure sideways glance
passion in your eyes
sitting across the room
angled just right
feel him ravenously devouring
the sleek lines of your neck
the swish of your skirt
sends tremors down his spine
this is the third time
the third event
watching you closely
anticipation building
each time you've met
a touch, a brush, a handshake
always he lingers
carressing your fingers
none are aware
how tempted he is to care

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