My heart quickens when you are near,
if ever we should touch,
my chest will not contain it.
The dew of my kiss slips off into the air
leaving your skin cool.
I must kiss it again.
The air hovers indecisively
between coolly damp, heavily humid.
The rain on the street flows and puddles.
In the puddles I see reflections
of the steel gray wool above.
An evening on the verge of autumn.
A breeze rustles the leaves.
Tattered shadow-clouds cross a sky
dusted with tentative stars.