The Elevator

In a second,
I am there,
In the elevator,
Matching your stare.

My cheeks are red,
My knees are weak,
When I bump into you,
I can hardly speak.

Sweaty palms,
Messy hair,
Don’t goof up!
Don’t you dare.

Keep your cool,
Be calm and subdued.
And whatever you do,
Don’t give him a clue.

My mom brought me up,
That good girls are not easy,
And if you are worth my while,
You will pursue me.

Could you be my Prince Charming?
Could you be my 10?
Could you be the answer,
To the prayers I’ve sent to heaven?

Your eyes look serious,
Kind and intense.
I want to know you,
Without any pretense.

What is your name?
Where are you from?
Do you know that your eyes,
Are second to none?

What makes your heart pound?
What makes you feel alive?
If you could go anywhere,
Where would you thrive?

Are you a risk taker?
Do you know your maker?
Are your feet on solid ground?
Or are you still waiting to be found?

But that window closed,
I think I missed my opportunity.
Cause I clammed up and acted mean,
Every time you tried to talk to me.

I actually dreamt about you,
More than a time or two.
And in at least a few of them,
You thought I disliked you.

Many days have gone by,
I’ve been to different places,
Yet I can still see clear as day,
Your face among the faces.

Where are you today?
Will you come back?
Will I see you again?
Or is this all whack?

You’re probably a figment,
Of my imagination,
Trying to conjure up grandeur,
Changing memories by interpretation.

Maybe you were my lighthouse,
Some sort of laser beam,
One that I would never catch,
That stopped me from settling.

© Regina Mast 2015

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