time being not of the essence
I work my way through work,
largely thinking of last night
replaying each scene
do you do that?
the initial meeting -- full of fright and delight
a handshake, a shock
lips, glossed and luminous
eyes, big and bright
I was immediately in.
Awkward, yes, but there
leading you down the sidewalk
buying beverages and sitting in the shade
starting the talking
Slightly afraid to look directly into your eyes
an intense woman stared back
with every cell
talking people talking concepts
Was I talking too much?
I left worrying
You took notes:
words you hadn't heard
You insisted I correct you
when your English was too English
and I was delighted
for so many reasons
You talked about "working on the bench"
and spending all your time in the lab.
I imagine ueber-focused you in a long white coat
unaware of an untied shoe or a half-eaten lunch
We talked translation and knowing
When I stopped talking you didn't squirm
We dined and talked and laughed
We walked and talked less and touched
palm to palm, fingers entwined then not
I became both more comfortable and
What next? What next?
No idea but I'm flying now.
Blisters bubbled on my foot.
I drove you home, worried about my driving
and giving you whiplash with a gear shift.
You insisted on icing my blisters
and I let you touch my funky feet
embarrassed about untrimmed nails.
I remember: playing your electronic drums
and asking you to play.
I remember standing behind you and you leaning back into me.
The touch of you feeling like a memory
The top of your head and your hair
coarse under my lips.
Am I going too fast? Too wild?
Too close too soon?
Maybe not enough!
The options are endless
and I ask for information:
what are you thinking?
a brief tour of the house and then I'm leaving
Too sudden? My timing is off and my heart is racing.
I'm awkward in my head but barreling through.
Porch. Front door cracked open.
Your face, luminous
and I don't think I stopped at all to think before
pressing my lips to yours
Sweet softness with response
Kiss and then a deep breath
that may have been the world moving under you
More, I want, and so I take
You kiss back, with passion and reservation
You shut the door and I walk to my car,
always wanting more, but I feel you hold back
"What?" I ask.
"I don't really know the neighborhood."
I'm boorish, I realize, and pushy, frisky and grabby.
Yes, I would have loved to go back inside. Take back my
departing phrases and take off my hat.
I'm a greedy little bugger and maybe too much
would have loved to
make you stay up too late