Theirs

Wanted to see if I could write a poem without using the letter A

When he opened the door
the time; nine forty five
the noise just stopped
like nothing before

his eyes flowed round the room
but stopped on hers
drinking in her every wrinkle
freckle or dimple
imperfection perfectly outlined

the noises resumed
hubbub of crowds
but he only held the note
of her voice
rising beyond the din

body odour, knock off cologne
dodgy beer , nicotine
but he could just smell her,
pheromones, perfume
sweet, promising, desiring

he crossed the room
fist bumps, high fives
but he only needed to touch her
feel the smoothness of her skin
the coolness mixing with the rising temp
fire. inside them both

in his mouth the burger previously devoured
could still be identified.
quick mint
to relieve the stench
the one thing
he wished on his tongue;
hers

he stepped up,
Hi,
more whispered, not spoken
but she knew
understood
their eyes in communion

they belong, together
his, hers
theirs