try in love

our common ground
is a farce.
we are closer than that,
able to perform on a much
deeper level. our skin is
attuned, our hearts are in time,
our lips are meant to work
freely together.
the pumping, each beat synchronized
to palpitate at the slightest touch.
even when I saw you there at
the coffee shop on
Arlington, I knew it was true.
damn my soul
sensitivity. and our names can
be spoken in hushed
tones by those who have
not found
that particular
side of reasoning. let them put their
faith in science.
for me, my belief lies in
the rushing warmth of your skin
and the smell of your neck
when I pull you in and we
kiss to the sound of those
twice beating hearts
that
drew us together
in the first place.
our greatest escape
was finding the other
despite our
needs,
despite the guy
who was stalking you
and the
woman who
wanted to go
to 'lunch' with me.
our common ground is a farce
when it is seen from
the outside by those who
could never possibly understand
the energy of our spirits
when we are together,
or the ones
who are tired from searching
so hard
to find the one thing
they are truly looking for
and miss it because they
cannot take the time to just wait
and
be patient with what
they already have.
it was one of the greatest accidents of my life,
running into you when I did,
and talking over a movie neither one
of us was really interested in, but the eyes so
subtly undressing the other as we spoke.
and those same eyes still connecting
the parts of our nakedness
that exposes our very nature.
and may those eyes always reveal the
most tender parts even when we grow old
and the wrinkles of time
set in and make us more
beautiful to those who receive us.