Poesia con Stelle

You were constellation shopping the

milky band of overhead stars. You

found Cygnus acceptable but could

not find Taurus at all. You were a Scorpio

and drove a Civic but in saying Taurus,

you set off a hundred miniature mousetraps

in my mind and the snapping of synapses

I would’ve sworn was audible.

Your face changed, in the

directional light as you moved

to spot the configurations, allowing me a

million tiny moments to see your features

fresh, reaccentuated in pairs or trios, they

reminded me of something only

my deepest lizard brain was clear about. Some

face from long ago, some distant, buried, near

forgotten woman to whom I may never

have spoken. But

perhaps that crush was you; we met

so very long ago. And so, I confess:

I was reprocessing the history of my

attractions while we were standing

in the drive, waiting to be ready to kiss.

--RFRY, 14 Jun 06

This is a version 3 of Poesia con Stelle.