The doorstep dilemma:
To kiss...
Or not to kiss...
There we stood
Like two empty milk bottles
Outside her front door
The tension between us
As tangible
As glass
The sky was unromantic
No moon...
No stars...
A chill autumn wind
Sought to blind me
With cold tears
I ventured to speak
The voice was not my own
I disowned it
I listened with fascination
As some intense stranger
Within me said:
"I remember reading somewhere
That music is the spaces
Between the notes"
"Is conversation
The silence
Between the words?"
She shook her head
Her lips moved
But no sound emerged
I could not read her expression
Her eyes glittered
Both feline and magnetic
Our faces were drawn together
My lips brushed
The cool mound of her cheek
And then... we kissed...
There was no spark
No magic
I counted the number of bricks
I could see in the wall
Behind her head
I might as well
Have pressed my lips
Against their rough surface
We disengaged
She took a step back
And receded far into the distance
I felt more alone
Than ever before
I reached out a hand
It was the hand of a ghost
I could touch
But I could not feel
