He nipped
her lip the first time.
Back against the brick wall.
Bottles warming,
soon forgotten at their feet.
There was something
so urgent
in the way they fell--
limbs tangling on
or against
any surface that
could hold them.
But those surfaces were edged
in pasts long hidden
and razor-sharp,
wrapped in caution tape.
And they remembered their fragility.
So they tucked
in their elbows and
side-stepped each other.
Trading bitten lips
for shattering glances,
they told themselves
No.
But sometimes,
in quiet moments,
the Yes still breaks through.