That morning I saw your eyes
shine like a camera light was on them.
And that night you wore your tartan trousers,
and said, “It’s so rare to fancy someone nowadays.”
All so true!
We ate crepes, taking bites between kisses:
one sweet, one savoury,
surrounded by skateboarders
and High Street well-wishers
Phosphorus leaked from the lamps
above our heads
until we were all light,
all bellies and tongues,
and a little silver cord
hung between us.
I stood in the gap between two lovers
in the landscape of fear.
But your stance was brave:
magnificent as the laird upon the moor.
As we breathed in heathen heaven
I tried turning kisses into words,
but your tongue kept me silent.
Open-eyed I saw
yours shut under blonde eyelashes,
and you a trembling, white Aspen.
Sam Burcher
.