By Paul E. Schindler, Jr.
You poured a glass of wine.
You handed it to me.
We stood close enough
That our hearts’ fields merged.
Heart-to-Heart.
Telepathic, not verbal.
But if words had been involved,
They’d have gone like this.
“My brain likes smart women.”
“My brain likes smart men.”
“He seems smart.” “She seems smart.”
“Good start.”
“So, how long’s it been?”
“Five years.” “Five Hours.”
“Is that long enough?”
“Yes.”
“You ready to give and accept love?”
“Yes. You?” “Yes.”
“OK. Heartrate Up. Palms sweat.
Hormones: let ‘em rip.”
“Tonight?” “No”
“Someday?” “Maybe”
“Smile. Exchange Cards.
Walk away.”
Heart to Brain: “Don’t Fuck This Up.”