on the bench they sat
uneasily silent
early spring sun
beating down on their backs
no longer strangers
yet neither friends
sublimely unsure of the other
—
“hello, my name is —“
and a handshake
would’ve sufficed
were it not for her
paranoid pride
shyness a selfish excuse
—
on stones they sat close
maintaining the silence
between them in shade
of late summer leaves
no longer rovers
yet neither content
to keep a term undefined
—
history and mystery
love-language and lore
eyes between brown
and mossy tree green
nevermind that he’s blind
and can’t feel anything
—
together they sat
forgetting the silence
mid-autumn fires
crackling cheerily on
no longer angered
yet neither in love
laughing into the wind
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