First

"Not all writers are sad. All sad people write." -Lang Leav

I looked at you

And you began talking.

You noticed my hand

And grabbed my ring.

That's when I felt a spark

A sudden jolt from your touch.

Then you moved slowly,

Entwining our hands as one.

We sit side by side

Too close, too tight.

You smelled my hair

And your perfume still lingers.

We reached our place,

I had to go.

I wish to hold you longer,

And feel a hug that's tighter.

Then we waited for another

And it didn't take any longer.