Glance or Grind

Do you still think of me, after all, it was a momentary passing upon a bustling city street?

The instant, enough to pass the shared Edenic fruit between us, our accord synched with immediate yearn.

Was it merely a hasty peek? an exchange of passion? surely, we must look further to detect true heat?

Feeling the vibrations such a perishable gaze could not bring, the thrill of splendid tremors was discerned.

What auspicious timing! Salacious paths inevitably crossing through a glimpse, a fortuitous meet.

Libidinous fantasies unfolded in flashing eyes fleeting as their silent, but lust filled congress burned.

An upward twitch upon your lips in concave craving hid hollow desire behind a brash smile so sweet.

Hastily it ended, a transitory lascivious exchange, and there we passed, base instincts adjourned.

Maybe it was the Brobdingnagian physique of my love enraged at your bawdy glance, taken with conceit?

Did my prone image beneath low lights casting shadows on my supple skin lying below you cause some concern?

Perhaps, consumed by images, celestial bodies clashing rhythmic defiance until satisfaction reached.

Or was it affections for your own devoted, seeing her grim crest fallen face that made your insides churn?

Whatever the reason for the soulless visual parley, the message transmitted with you wanting me, and I wanting you, and for this we are forever slipped into each other’s minds.

These are the methods, day trippin’ in the middle of a workweek, where two people passing take half a second to say “damn” to public conventions before returning to the daily grind.

C.S. Mack Author