a rush of heat to your cheeks, but we both can’t blush; the red rose color fails to flood our faces and touch with its eternal color. The feeling in my stomach when you say my name is addicting. The syllables rush from your lips onto paper into the air in my ears; the rasp makes my shoulders go soft. When we touch, do you feel the spark? The connection is like electricity; call me yours, and I’ll fall in love with your brass cold skin as you touch my neck. Do the questions excite you? When you gush about your interests, does your heart pound with anticipation? Does my touch make you dizzy? The beat of your heart lets me know that it’s true—you feel something you don’t want to admit. Will our age set us apart? Three years can do a lot to people. Will you stay with me then? Love is so blinding, but I know you could help me see.