Getting caught in the rain

She was bedecked with jangles and suede

ready for a cool drink in a dim pub

excited to build something beyond her

But he wanted to sit across from her

in a vinyl booth with coffee

in cracked ceramic anxious to tear away

jagged bits of himself he held close.

Their projections of themselves barely

fit the other, but close enough so

mental acrobatics were like emo foreplay

and sparks between them glowed

as pure as muffled glittery first snow.

The rain didn’t register over the things

they didn’t need to say.

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