Have you ever sat still and felt
Tingles BURSTING up your sternum,
Choking you with surprise
As the memory of that somebody
Seeps into your mind?
Do you blush at the thought of
The touch he gave
And the responding tingles
Tickling your spine?
Do you then catch yourself for being so open
To the magic his words bring
As he sings promises
Of BRIGHT beginnings
In your ear?
And would you scold your conscience
For letting you succumb
To the tingles
Because you’ve had an underlying fear?
I too sometimes find
That in certain lapses of time
My concentration BREAKS
And his memory overtakes
All rules that my blood inscribed.
And instead of boiling fury
At the beautiful lies he told me,
This red liquid turns HOT as ice
As only the memories suffice
For the tinge of prickly sprinkles
Of ignorant puppy-love
TINGLES.
© Shanese Whyte
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