Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

When you climbed
into the back

of the estate car
with the other

members of choir
on the way

to the old church
she would slip

her hand into yours
in the darkness

and give it
a squeeze

and lean close to you
and while others

were talking
of the latest news

of how so and so
did such a thing

or who did what
to whom

she whispered
in your ear

I love you
and the words

lingered there
like young birds in flight

maybe learning the art
of staying midair

and you’d feel her hand
there in the darkness

and sense the warmth
against the cold air

of the early
winter evening

and you’d feel
her thigh

next to yours
on the seat

and how she’d
rub hers up

and down
in a kind of

conversation
while the others

like aliens
on some other planet
knew nothing
of the whispered words

or hand holding
or thigh touching

or the leaping
of your heart

or hers
only of their own

conversations
of their own

quite foreign words
that lingered

far off like
black unknowing birds.

Simply sublimely beautifully real.

~

Thank you, Anna.