Fear Of Intimacy

He swung his hair,

As he walked down the stair;

He is sexy and his kind is rare.

He caught me into his snare.

I had so much to share:

To kiss and to flare.

There was silence in the air,

We were the only ones there.

He was as passionate as a mare;

He ran through me like a hare,

But being as wild as a bear.

He then climbed down and gave me a glare.

Suddenly my head alarmed: beware;

But all that didn't stop there.

(Like most Indians I was taught that intimacy is wrong. It's shouldn't even be mentioned; So we constantly have a fear that alarms us at that moment. Here, I've tried to put it out in words.)