Across the room eyes meet
and feet slowly shuffle to close
the gap between. Stealth, seen by others
as casual friends, and that’s
where the casual ends.
A smile and a nod, glasses
raised to salute, to toast,
to boast of the conquest
of hearts and minds.
Love finds it own level
even though it’s not quite on it.
Candlelit in a bit, rendezvous;
me and you in close quarters.
The waiter takes our orders,
Me and Mrs. Jones.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
and presented at dVerse OpenLinkNight – Week 100