Velvet Thunder and Summer Rain
There was nothing in the eyes which revealed to her
where they had looked before, whom they had laid upon,
what kiss they had seen, what heart they had traversed.
She peered closer because his head was turned to one side and she
looked for something in the stance therefore, in the hands moving
which might tell the story of their wanderings, their placements
upon what and whom, at what hours of the day or night,
what perfumed scents they might possess, whose mouth
even they might have tasted, plying aside gentle lips, placing
cherries there from the jubiliee.
It was not that he, once turned would look upon her, he might not notice her at all and that was as well giving her the advantage of the unobserved observer, the secret admirer hiding in plain sight, the moment about to strike if fate allowed and thus when, she thought when when he finally turns there will be dumbfounded first moments when strangers meet and fix there as though they had known each other all their lives.
He was that person, even from behind profile she knew, even if all she had seen was profile, he would be unknown but known, a lightning bolt crackling dash to the ground seeking to wed cloud and earth, she was earth of course, because lightning strikes up.
His head froze because the charged air made him aware that some ones energy was there, behind him, drawing him and recognizing that made him pause and slow motion, stop his conversation, cock his head and start to turn, turn to see what manner of human force was drawing him round, demanding that he face its source.
She froze as well, up to her full height anticipation to see what the face she had never fully seen, was to see in her seeing him.
Tuned both, electrifying as an unveiling of art figures, widening eyes as both edged toward full view, shards of emotions starting to chain the event not yet fully realized to moments glow, where anticipation pregnant is slowly, deliciously at the brim, as he suddenly, oh so suddenly, was at her side, a voice rolling through her like velvet thunder inquiring,
'Don't I know you? '
He had been drawn to her as inexorably summer rain, drenched with her even before he fell in beside her, too close already for clear thinking, but a sort of wedding of silent spirits even before the words came.
And they came huskier than husky because that was the feeling.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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