The flick of a wrist
Twisting down to the hips
So the lovers begin, with a kiss
In a tryst
It's just a smudge
But what it becomes
In his hands...
Curving and sweeping
Rising and reaching
I could feel what he was feeling
Lines like these have got to be
An architect's dream
It's always the same
Whenever he works on a pavement
It starts to rain
And all the time
The light is changing