The First Move and Last

My palms feeling sweaty, An escalating heat fills the room, Heart palpitations increasing, Not knowing what I should do, My pulse starts to race, Mouth agape from which no words emanate, Foot twitches rapidly, Stuttering when I begin to speak, Paranoid of her discomfort, Fearful that it’s too soon, Worried about rejection, Not knowing what I should do, Wishing for a magical connection, A mutual telepathic moment, As our heads turn toward one another, And our lips simultaneously converge, Never wanting to make her uncomfortable, An excuse to which I resort, As I sit here and ponder, Not knowing what I should do.