Will it or Won't it

Glances meet from across the room
Soulful recognition
A yearning, a desire
So forbidden, so craved
Each wondering who this stranger is.

The slow sweep and survey of the other
Yet nothing seems familiar
Except the slow tugging each soul feels
Slowly drawing them together
Slowly feeding the other what they have needed.

Fire dancing in each others eyes
The wonder of the feel of skin on skin
The feel of breath on skin
Should it be done
Or should it be left alone

The glance is broken
Recognition has been lost
Was this an idea of lust
Or a glimpse of what is to come.

©2008, Amanda Tachick

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