Any lines separating you
from me were blurred after many thimbles
of cheap sake and the sweet bite of good whiskey.
The hum of bar chatter buzzed in my ears
as we made our way though the soft evening air, the rain
just getting started. The wet tire sounds on the street.
Our conversation had not been light, it was electric and
now it was raining and I couldn’t keep myself inside
the lines. I wanted your firm hands pulling
my bony hips against you in the worst way, but you
kept your hands in your pockets so I pressed my warm
palms against your cool cheeks and kissed you.
Kissed you like it was the first and last time all at once, my
mouth soft, lips minty, heart hungry. And then we kept
walking, wanting to relive that kiss with every step.
But those raindrops would never fall
on us again, the ocean in the distance kept pounding
its rhythm, drawing the rain and sand out to sea
while we drew back, turned toward home, knowing
nothing of our future, sleep, silence, sex, eternity,
the end. We walked, arms linked, bumping into one another
getting wetter with each step, trying to see what may come,
our heads tilted together, sheltering our hearts from the storm.