enraptured was he,
enamored and taken aback,
eyes glossing and fingers trembling,
effortlessly pouring his soul to top her glass.
she was wild and equally fragile,
strong in her vivacious convictions-
stubborn and quiet and barely content,
sharing a love of fiction and faith and fire.
they danced and watched the skies,
tangled together in hopes and dreams,
tossed to the world by the winds of their cities,
trying desperately to get a grasp on growing up and getting out.
her favorite memory of him:
he had headed into the fields to gaze into space
half shivering, half dead,
holding out a rose to her-- his favorite scent.
night fell and so did they,
nodding off with heads in the weeds,
nurturing each others' wounds and bruises,
nearing dusk with new determination and confidence.