The air is smooth and warm,
the breeze wraps around you
and seems to fill you with a rare kind of contentedness;
specks of infinity freckle the navy sky
and the streetlights glow against the buildings,
like something you've seen in paintings;
her hand is small and a little sweaty against yours
but you wouldn't let go,
not even to grab something out of the nearer pants pocket;
the town is empty, asleep, quiet,
and the noise of your feet on the pavement is almost offensive
but it fills the silence between you,
that lies in the small gap between your arms;
she's so close,
you missed her
and you know she missed you
but you pretend not to notice the way she keeps turning to look at you,
and you suppress the smile that surfaces each time you catch her eye
until you find yourselves in the alley,
away from the lights
and while pressed up against that wall,
pulling her closer and tasting every sweet thing she's said
and every laugh she's chased your jokes with
you pretend to understand
the complex perfection
of the simplicity and beauty
that is a summer night.