Eight inches hovered in the space
that separated face from face,
as he asked her to the show,
as her heart refused to slow.

Ten inches formed a taunting wall
when she was starting to feel small.
He asked if she was feeling well.
At that point, she couldn't tell.

Then, three inches fell away.
She gave a nod – said she's okay.
He smiled – said that he was glad,
and she inched closer, just a tad.

She followed him to where they'd sit.
Their distance varied for a bit,
stopping at a solid two,
thus far the smallest inch value.

Throughout the show she strained her eyes,
sensing every tension rise.
Like seas, the inches ebbed and swelled;
like trapped below, her breath was held.

A quarter inch is where he froze.
Her cheeks flushed several shades of rose.
She felt that all in life was grand,
that night he almost held her hand.