The thought alone was intoxicating
Drunk on the speculation of lips secure against mine
Years of yearning had spun into a disoriented fantasy
A fantasy fueled by false hope of fireworks and passion
Naive

The vanilla flavored cocktail still fresh on my tongue
Burning my throat and blurring my mind
Allowing the thrumming beat of the electronic music to envelop me
Each deep boom and shrill bang pounded against my chest
Or was that my anxious heart?
An outstretched hand inviting me into a pool of witnesses
Swaying and moving to the hypnotic rhythm
His rough hand large around mine, pulling me towards him Disappointed

It finally happened
No longer pondering the magic such a thing held
Only to find out it didn’t hold any at all
What I had been waiting for all those years was
Not just lips but the him behind them
Tipsy on the thought of love
Waiting