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A Short Romance
Who's to say when the moment had passed,
miraculous as it was finding your door.
The innkeeper's guidance failed under street light, still the secrets poured from you,
signal enough for me to navigate.
Lacquered within the amber light
you emptied your purse,
your eyes down and up again.
You fingers diving, bra and panties,
passport, library of Paris maps, hairbrush,
Dentine, Bayer aspirin, wallet, then your
anchor ring of keys.
Rattled by the recalcitrant lock,
your palms moistened as you said,
You better come up.
When you successfully turned the key,
You better come upstairs.
Your chatter lighted the spiral flights.
We explored the hastily borrowed flat
together. At the kitchen counter,
you lingered, tempted by the dripping shower,
then peering into the other room,
making excuses for the mess,
the bed such as it was.
You turned on no lights.
Rising, I faced the window without further curiosity. Blood burned my cheeks and curled my
lips but wouldn't move my mouth around a single word. Wanting not wanting then wanting,
the grace of a promise sucked softly through the screen
pulling sweetly from your lips and eyes |