Almost Lovers

In a secluded corner, back turned toward the flow
Table bounderied, body cautious, listening intent
As he talks and gestures and talks again,
She leans back, he leans forward, her hands,
Trapped between her knees, as if hiding from
His hands so loquacious, weaving patterns
Dreams, in the air between them, he, the juggler
She the audience, leans forward, encouraging
Not wanting the dream state to end,
Soon, too soon harsh reality intrudes and
Slows his hands, slows her heart
Gravity tugs down on their arc of flight
Through the world of dream and slowly
They fall back to the waking world
The invisible strings that bound them
Fade and vanish in the harsh neon light.
She leans back, he looks around startled
By the clatter of the passing day,