A Timid Gavotte

I at one side of the room,
You at the other
Each sizing the other one up.
Both too timid to make the first move.

You feign disinterest
While I work to push your buttons.
A bare shoulder shown here, a suggestive word dropped there.
These things get your attention and pique your interest.

Yet you fight against my lure
One step forward, three steps back.
Minding your distance, weighing your words,
Offering up pleasantries instead of desire.

Must I be the aggressor
And risk looking like the fool?
Or will you finally step forth
Admitting your own conflict within?