Pollen

She met him on the open sidewalk
passing strangers
She felt his strength and his passion
like the undertow of an unfathomable ocean.
They agreed to do without names.
Neither could be nakid in their realization
of the other,
and neither would ever be free unless
the other let go.

And so they held on that way
twisted, ensnared,
His words glistening, radiant,
covered her flesh like a dusting of pollen-
She was his flower.
But in the morning someone called out to him
from the street above-
the way you call a child-
And she knew his name.
And she let him go.