We’re quiet,
feeding the fire
of shy curiosity.

I notice your hand comes to rest
on the round, wooden tabletop
and mine flinches
in response.

If only I could allow it to
fold over yours,
let our fingers intertwine and
our palms discuss
how sweet this feels.

Your eyes meet with mine,
glazed over, glacial, blue,
dousing the flames with
icy indifference.

Play it cool.

I look around,
muttering a lie.
Time to leave,

before my heart grows too fond.