And so you asked
“When did you know?”
I knew well
Letting my response hang, watching
A flicker growing in your eyes

Sheets pulled away
My subtle smirk,
Fingers tracing up your naked hip
Across ribs, then breast
Along neck, along chin
Then lips, oh yes
A nervous inhale past your parted lips
Your eyes holding mine hostage
Prying for an answer

What if the magic broke
The sacred made known
A moment held dearest
No longer my own

Leaves fell from trees and crunched underfoot
A low, bright sun and chill in the air
We walked through sighing woods
You shivered, cheeks red
My hands retreating to pockets
And so I asked
“Are you cold?”

My heart stopped
Your answer
A smile I’ve never seen you wear
Your hand snatching mine
Fingers intwining, as you said
“No.”

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Author: Cabot O’Callaghan

Editor: Travis May

Photo: Tela Chhe/Flickr