chains

There had been a moment

when our fingers touched

as I handed you the plastic cup

of cola from the sticky table

by the wall bars in the gym,

and then

just for a moment

you saw me

as you thanked me.

We swayed side by side

as others talked

relaxing in a subtle gravity

that held us now

each in the other's orbit.

I could not look at you again

but my cheek bones knew then

and grew warm

at the thought of you.

And you had chosen

my finger

and led me through

to the dance floor.

There had been a moment

as we danced

when

you had curled yours

one by one

around mine

and my other hand

had found your waist

and my clumsy toes

your toes.

And you were there

my nose to your hair

my lips to your ear

my arms full of you

as the pale last song

smoothed the evening to its silken end -

how not in love,

oh no,

the singer was.

I talked you home

along the December High Street to The Manse

and we stopped

by the bookshop

because you loved to read

and I told you that I did too,

and maybe there

was something here

displayed

which might have stayed us

out this evening just a moment longer.

As if for reassurance

when we resumed our walk

you lightly linked your hand

around my arm

so that as I lifted mine

towards my heart

I might fix you there.

But at your front door

you turned to face me

in the first of our goodbyes

and at last you met my eyes

and curled into me that

our supple mouths might touch

and with tongue tips

taste each other's

teeth.

You

drew the breath from my lungs

fanned the furnace flames

of my desire

and forged

then

these binding chains

link

by golden link.