Thistles.



 The first word that comes to mind is enchanted. I can't shake the feeling I get. Like thistles stuck on my skin. Doubling with every meeting. Glowing a shy pink. Like a pink panther, I beat around the bush. Slight advances. "Hoping this person notices." Time goes by quickly, and I miss words, not because I'm lost or uninterested but because I'm distracted by the thistles you put on my skin. 

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