faster than my eyes can
process the sight of you
tingles have run down my
spine. a swarm of unruly
butterflies flutter against my
chest with no sign of
stopping
and my cheeks flush red,
warm under your gaze.
but you’re not looking at me,
and rightfully so;
you don’t even know me.
I don’t know you either,
besides passing you in the halls
once and a while.
yet that is enough
to bring a smile to my lips,
a gentle smirk I try to hide
as you make your way up
the stairs towards me.
we have never spoken
to one another,
but I still struggle to tame myself,
a grinning fool,
when I see you a few lunch tables away.
this overwhelming sensation is a mystery,
though I know for certain it is not love.
it is a temporary obsession;
a dazzling jewel that enchants its watchers
but inevitably loses their interest,
an ephemeral pleasure that transcends to the next
beguiling object of my gaze.
soon you will fade away
into the haze of the forgotten,
but for now, you are special.
the sight of you still sends
tingles down my spine
and a flutter of panic to my chest.
but it is not love I feel;
it is fascination.
mere infatuation.