Goose Pimples Running My Side Poem by Piccola Topo Gigio

And as we're walking,
He puts his arm around my shoulders.
Casually.

Intentionally,
He pulls me close to scent and odours.
Am I uncomfortable he's asking.

If I was his lass,
He tells me,
Somebody said.

Like that famous actress,
Out of his league,
He replied.

The wind disarranges my hair.
He puts it back in place,
His palm touching my head.

Then a strand gets disengaged.
With his finger pass my face,
He rests it behind my ear with care.

He looks at me,
While I pretend not to see,
Not to feel.

I glance uneasy,
My heart becomes unhappy.
Not who I need.