Lovers Observed
By sweetbrother
Fat missiles of rain dimple the puddle at his feet as the spectator, chilled beneath a bus shelter, watches the frantic tangle of lovers calling each other in the guttural language of desire, feeding each other caresses and soft bites and the occasional cry of rapture The spectator's eyes and skin burn even beneath three layers' soaking; to the lovers, he stands, insignificant as the rain, and the cars sloshing along the street and the passersby dismal under their unbrellas clutching parcels that drip with the rhythm of their footsteps These lovers don't notice that they are wet, don't care about the baleful sky or the next moment The spectator stands, eyes transfixed, perhaps to caress a memory but his reality holds only the scene of the passionate oblivious scramble before him hungry mouths and hands are etched on his conscience- a slap that stings, a taunting memory The bus arrives, the lone man boards and settles in for a ride to his dry and barren room hot plate and television As the bus rumbles away the lovers continue their embrace stickily wet, and sheltered by the moment. Written November 6th, 2001 © on Nov 06 2001 09:14 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Fat missiles of rain..."