it was a party for the polished and the picky, a night of class clad in gold

when heading towards the garden i had bumped into you

you wore a silvery coat with magenta strokes, and i, a saree of crystals and frills

my eyes focused on the floor, where the flowers i had been carrying all spilled.

kneeling with me, picking up flowers, your fingers grazed over mine

a touch so subtle yet provocative, just a feathery moment to survive

your eyes pinning on my collarbone, mine on your audacity

a stranger's delight this night, as you slipped a paper in the bouquet, pirouetting with a smile.

This is me fantasizing