JUST FRIENDS?

JUST FRIENDS?

An hour ago
we were just friends

more like acquaintances,
a curtain of propriety
partitioning our impulses

Our mutual attraction as yet unnamed
but undeniably real,
like an expletive we dare not utter

We move with a stiffness
borne out of precaution,
like negotiating a strange room in the dark

Her smile is welcoming, like warm pastry,
my voice as smooth as Italian marble.
Our eyes lock, elude, and lock again,

wanting to speak with our eyes
what our voices hesitate to say
what both of our hearts are feeling

I reach across the table to touch her hand.
It is soft and warm as cotton.
There is a barely perceptible flinch,

yet she does not withdraw--
rather, she glances down at our hands,
then draws a short breath

before her lips betray an emerging smile
as I grope for the appropriate words
that will calm my roiling heart

and forever “end” our  “friendship.”