He imagines he feels her first.
The slight tap of slender fingertips
to stop the holes only she can see
run down his fluted arm.
Then, tender lines of perhaps
too-thin lips follow along his neck
to shape lyrics from bouncy songs
he heard once, in passing.
Finally, her whole body pulls close
eager to imprint his bare back
with blocky paragraphs that break
his inhibited spell.
All this happens in glancing yet.
They haven't met, but when they do
their story may choose to travel
less conventional paths.