Hidden under Linen (Prose)


past the table, folded napery
alongside the window, you sit
a Cafe, worn rustic floorboards
the solid against decorated lace
gazing deep in thought
I watch, glasses raised, across a room
full of bodies busy with their own

romantic encounters
secret liasons
a salute to erotic novelty ahead
presents itself, to my right
I can only smile
not knowing thoughts
of young lovers, legs draped
hidden under linen

you smile in my direction
a natural arrangement
of your features
the room quiet
for split seconds in time
as eyes meet

are you waiting for someone
glancing at me, the polite smile
traded between strangers
whose eyes met
at the same time
you, extravagantly handsome
I sit, as if on the edge of a desert
craving salt from your lips

©jmtacken Feb 25 2014