Anticipation

follows like a ghost

who believes silence

renders his presence

unnoticeable.

-

Anticipation

lingers like perfume

warmed by heated blood

to scent the skin and

air.

-

Anticipation

heightens through glances

short or lingering

exchanged in Hogwarts'

corridors.

-

Anticipation

entwines like fingers

whose outward show

displays the inner

union.

-

Anticipation

echoes in memories

of voices tender

with love and whispered

promises.

-

Anticipation

pursues like letters

sent from family

questioning future

plans.

-

Anticipation

presses like lips

clinging, exulting

the waiting will end

soon.

-


-

A/N: Although it's been months since Our Little Secret finished posting, I haven't given up on writing further adventures, at least in one-shots. As this poem probably shows, my inner Rose and Scorpius are also very happy about the thought of the wait ending soon. :D