Gestures Poem by Anthony Kintanar

Sometimes love goes skin deep
As when you leaned on me
So slightly, and I leaned back,
Brushing your shoulder,
While we half-whispered
A half-toned conversation,
And I felt the heat of sun
In the faint houselight.
Our feet wore protracting soles.
Not asking each other
About sadness, we took time
To walk the distance for a drink.
We quietly saved each detail, it seemed,
Like a morsel for some future hunger,
Out of habit. Even soulmates, after all,
Have parted for what they wanted to keep.
And perhaps we told parables
In simple gestures. No promises.
Trading jokes, we went home
Amidst the laughter and the dawn,
Your finger tracing a line
On my hand.