When she kissed my lips
I smelt the first drops of rain
upon parched earth.
When she delved deep into my eyes
locking her hands over her head
scrutinising my pupils
I felt a silent scissors
working its way through my heart.
When the curves of her body
stood asymptotical to that of mine,
within me rattled a compass needle
hemmed between two bar magnets.
As the passion worked up to the crest of a wave,
her face assumed a tint in expectancy.
But
as she receded in some fear unknown
I saw in her a river
shrinking to its source from cape
for fear of confluence.