jan 9, 2009 8:53 a.m.

with the long-limbed grace of seasoned danseur

you turned slowly from the dark visage of your patio at night

to peer at me from the corners of your eyes

you’re still tall

i rose up on the balls of my feet

my own lackluster relevé

neatly

but gracelessly

closing the space between your pursed lips and mine