Your voice is a scarf

and I can’t help but feel warm

as it wraps around me.

You’re an invigorating interval

in my mundane Monday,

and I laugh as I realize

I’m transfixed by the glow of

your pine needle eyes.

Oscillating like

the beam of illumination

that emanates from

an isolated lighthouse,

you say,

Any questions?

I have a few,

though they must remain

unspoken;

I will neglect

to raise my hand

because surely you would

raise your eyebrows

if I was to ask:

Do you have

any idea

what you do to me?

Why am I

falling for you

and your rolled-up shirt sleeves?

Can you hear

my heart beating

when you smile at me?