Where for the first time will I meet you?
It would not be a noisy pub affair,
A stiff conversation like a job interview,
And you sizing me up with a steady glare…
No, we will go for a different kind of run
Where you’ll lose dominion of the ground.
Unsteady in those ice blades, your seriousness melts into fun,
When you grab my hand as I swirl you around.
The shrapnel of ice forming the watery beads
In your eye lashes; I shriek as we suddenly fall
All over each other, laugh in our bellies like kids.
‘Tempus fugit’ , lost to salutation of no control.
Later, behind the steamed windows of an Oxford cafe,
Hot chocolate, bodies and minds in relaxed ascension…
You say nothing, just steadily hold my gaze,
As I feel it coming, the ice skating sexual tension.