Holding back.

Half formed intention ignites in her eye,
its ambition a kiss,
the depths of its warmth coaxing a sigh,
of impatient, yearning bliss,
fibrous beings,we both, between us static,
my alien, stocatto heart, its beat, irratic,
to breathe her in would save my life,
and kill me just as much,
as the thought that her intention might,
not evolve to touch,
then true to form as fear strikes cold,
intentions spark sputters out,
its heat and light mere seconds old,
ambitions death, the birth of doubt.