That (National Poetry Month Day 13)

That
coy glance, that
brush of hands, that
electric moment, that
spreading smile.

That
casual yawn – that
ol’ move – that
arm draped over
her shoulder.

That
sideways look
(you know the one), that
hammering heart, that
eccentric joy, that
chorus swell, that
starlit night, that
sense of wonder, that
soothing light.

That
movement closer, that
tiny distance that
bridges bodies, that
brings together, that
energy mingling, that
dance of eyes, that
sweet release, that
first kiss.

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