Romancing

pick up at a pub

The blending of breath over half empty glasses
A poorly told joke but she joyfully laughs as
His hand reaches hers and plays with her fingers
In tender strokes and he hopes it will linger
In a sweet smile pretend not to notice
Softened on the hard edge, she secretly hopes it's
not the end of an evening, but the start of the day
of walking together, not just parting ways
She closes her eyes just too long for a blink
He should know that it is a sign
While he ponders at her lips: “I think...
it's time.”