I walk into our classroom.
There are no oceanic eyes staring at me.
Great! Another day without seeing your eyes.
Without seeing your gorgeous, long blond hair.
Without seeing that perfect smile.
Without seeing you.
It's been five minutes now and the class has started.
The wooden door creaks open and someone sits next to me.
A warm hand on my back sends a rush over my body,
As if someone has poured cold water all over me.
Your deep voice softly asks for the work we have received.
Somehow I feel those butterflies again.
The beautiful blue butterflies.
Halfway through class, I've realised;
We've inched closer every minute.
So close we can feel each other's body heat.
Butterflies!
I drop my pencil on the floor,
In the middle of us.
I pick up my pencil only to find your hand.
So warm, so soft and so perfect.
Our hands fit perfectly like the two last pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
I feel at home.
I feel like I'm under a blanket, in front of a fireplace and nothing can hurt me.
Not even the biggest storm.
What do I do?
I'm a sitting duck.
Your intense eyes stare through me as if you know what I'm thinking.
I have the blue butterflies.
But don't stop!
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YOU ARE READING
A Mystery
Poesía{COMPLETED} This mysterious boy... How can someone so hidden have a huge affect on my life? I want to know more about him; his life, beliefs, background and dreams. Who is he? I'm desperate to find out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Text...
