"Ohhhhhh....!" he noticed
she was

wearing
the shortest skirt he had

ever seen

( a belt masquerading as
a skirt )

&

that she was reading the poetry
of Victor Hugo.

"...the forest has rusted
in the light and the rain..."

he quoted to the air

jealous of the sunlight
touching her hair.

"...le soleil et la pluie ont rouillé la forêt..."
her voice mirrored his

"Ahhhhhh...you know Hugo
and his poetry?"

"Oh if you knew Hugo
like I knew Hugo!"

he sang shamelessly.

She laughed
in French.

He laughed
in Irish.

"There's nothing
like the original!"

she crossed & re-
crossed

her legs
cutting through his thoughts

<<<<<scissors through paper.

"Only in translation!"
he shamefully admitted.

"Ohhhh...he has to be
experienced in the French!"

He tried not to stare at her
elegant-pale-pink-ivory-with-cream-applique-lace-trimmed

Janet Reger.

"...ta bouche sur ma bouche et
tes yeux sur mes yeux..."

she stared
into him.

"....your mouth on my mouth and
your eyes upon my eyes..."

the kiss only an instant away from
happening.