Start, stop, start.
Brush of a touch,
Hint of a hand
You weren’t supposed to do that.
Furtive, sideways glance
Orbit the party
Avoid the pull
Empty kitchen escape.
Your voice outside
Too close to stop
Heart won’t let legs run.
Behind the door
Face to face
Eyes break all the rules.
Same you same me
Cathy and Heathcliffe kiss
Did we plan this
Face the crowd,
From lover back to friend
New line, new sand
We weren’t supposed to do that.
© Jayne Downing
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Comments about this poem (Start, stop, start. by Jayne Downing )
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