His brown eyes,
Marbled with swirls of gold
And framed with green,
Shot straight through my own
And in the brief moment
Before we kissed
Everything was revealed
With silent shouts.
The smell of cigarette smoke
Rode upon the gentle waves
Of his soft, brown hair,
And the scent of alcohol
Had weaved its way through
The material of his shirt.
Yet the smell was not repulsive,
Like I'd found it to be many
Times before;
On him it made a fine cologne.
He stepped closer,
Shifting his eyes from mine
Down to my lips,
Yet our eyes seemed never to break from each other's.
He was trying to be cautious. . .
Trying to be unseen,
But the moonlight behind him
And the imagined lovers
Dancing around in his eyes
Revealed his desire.
	I looked down. . .
Unsure
	I looked up. . .
And kissed him first.

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