He made love to her with a desperation common to the poetically afflicted
She returned his love with the gentle repose of her elbow on his knee
When she was brushing away hair from her forehead he noticed the roundness of her ear
And wondered briefly at the succulent taste of it compared to her neck
And a long neck it was, noble and slender, holding up an inquisitive head.
With darting eyes, and gleaming glances, on which she wore her bowler hat high
And as ludicrously as he wore his red shirt and pink diamond patterned blue tie
They ate plain white yogurt from a single cup, and each spoonful was a feast
Then they were both shy again, the words drowned in the depth of their eyes…
…when they would peer into each other’s souls and be forced to look away
…by the intensity, they found there floating in the aqua-vita like so many lotus flowers.
And they would look to a distance frozen like Pharaohs, immobile like the Gods
Spying at the edge of vision a grove of proudly tall with brown bark summer-green trees
He was then capable of ignoring the surrounding loud traffic and gray concrete
While she looked at him and felt alive, at peace, soothed where nothing had to be said
Her whole being full of a single invigorating thought of complete fulfillment
Unaware that sound had vanished like melted ice cubes on feverish flesh.
And then they broke the silence again, feeling somehow uncomfortable…
…guilty, nervous, and out of place in the temple of each other’s company.