100 Words on Love, by Kile Ozier
Without looking, I could feel his smile.
Facing him, I could fall, forever forward
Into that hold-nothing-back, toothy grin.
Stiff, stilted, cumbersome conversation
though both privately enamored.
“If this doesn’t work out; this is my last date, ever…”
I responded, “Do you want to leave here?”
Contents of my refrigerator:
Coffee, milk, OJ, fine Champagne…
We sat together in my Bay Window
He set his glass down,
Saying to himself and to me,
“I think you might be … It.”
I kissed him.
“Would you like to stay …?”
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