in the tight wet heat of the humid air
beads of sweat upon her skin
she cooled me with a look
that brought my every thought to rest

there
in the needle of her eye
the thread of my wandering
was held

fresh as a winter wind across the sea
she moved before me
her hand upon a fork, a glass
guiding her cue
silent laughter smouldering slowly
there
in the quiet fire of her eyes
i burned to hear

my nerves were shaking
too close to her skin
to be apart
my lips were trembling
to bring my tongue to rest
there
between the perfect contours
of her lips

i spoke the cry of my longing
words more certain
than the nerves that scripted them
in the long awaited chance
of an undirected moment
there
where she looked into my eyes
and kissed me

1990
for lori