Meet me under the Mistletoe

the mistletoe looks like a noose

as it hangs above my head, leering

time is frozen yet still my sweat crawls

i punish myself for my naivety

for actually believing

i will my feet to move

to no avail

i can feel everyone staring

death gripping my virgin egg nog

oh how I wish i wasn’t driving

he’s not coming, my inner child cries

i can taste my temperature, searing

i command my legs to move

they ignore my mandate, jeering

cringing, i close my eyes

a feather-like tickle surprises me

softness on my lips

could it be?

or is the universe mocking?

but it’s not

my insides are suddenly lit

my knees wobble

he catches me before i sit

(just like in the movies)

i laugh into his mouth

christmas magic does exist

especially

under the mistletoe

when one is being kissed