Sparks

I am careful to keep my eyes
on the sky or watching
the fireflies darting
through the moon-cast shadows
while, inside, my every fiber
is acutely alert to your presence
in the dark beside me,
wondering if the space between us
truly is alive with energy
or if it’s only me.
I wonder if your mind lingers
on the same yesterday as mine,
on another heavy summer evening
spent in the darkness side by side
with our eyes raised skyward.
I will not say again the words
I said then — I will not
serve a meal uneaten twice —
but behind my lips, the feelings
rise like the tide, like smoke
from a signal fire, within me;
and I fear that truth, unspoken,
must still radiate from my every pore.
I can hardly bear to hold your gaze,
knowing how you know me well
enough to worry that your quick eyes
will see right through mine.

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