My Thoughts on a Girl Dropping Hints

She has the lips of a good kisser,
But I know she isn’t.
She has that wrinkle in her brow,
Sweetness in frustration.
She’ll brush her hair, modestly,
Golden and warm oak mixing.
She’ll try to make a hint to me, as if to say,
“Grab my hand, feel my silky palms…”

I do not know how to react
To this newfound love.
It has snuck up on me,
Silence amidst the roaring of stress.
The things she asks for,
The love she wants to regret,
The dazed and confused grin…
Isn’t lust one of the seven deadly sins?