All it takes is a look.

A jolt of electricity,
meeting of eyes,
touch of hands
prolonged, a little longer,

an extra millisecond,
a small change in life's navigation

the message is sent

energy, exchanged.

On my radar, on my mind,
imprinted on my palm,
tangled with my thoughts,
everyone might but she can't, deny
the stomach pitfalls of butterflies fluttering by

Convictions are later proven true
In between the sheets,
of her soft sleep inducing bed

She's drunk,
I'm exhausted
It's this surreal,
half awake, twilight state that we do
away with our guards
and sink into our natural
inclinations
of human touch and intimate comforts
And when i wake up in the morning,
She is the most beautiful being I have ever seen
With a peaceful face
and a deep sigh
i fit more into the curve of her back
a soft moan, a soft smile, a contented sigh
because of human comforts

and all of this happens without even a single **kiss

Two boys
and girls
unclothed each other
simply at a picnic
flush with wine
alongside
sun-flecked trees.

The girls,
easy as the
forest round,
burned,
delicious,
as the boys
eager and nervous
in unequal measure
partly gave up
concealing
their joys
at forgetting
or remembering
in flickers
their bare bodies.

It went on
over nettles
and half-hours
and clambered
trees and
photos taken
almost formally
(on film,
of course).

And boyish lust,
at first sinuous,
a darting tongue,
began to
soften against,
for instance,
the sheer,
unthinkable
texture
of the two
girls carved
now backward
over the bough
of a storm-felled elm.

And there
in the embers
of evening
they learned
to thrill originally
at the vast,
gorgeous
and astonishing
irrelevance
of what
might happen next.