She took him to the same place she took you,
Dim lights, incense, cushions,
Where she sat shy in front of another couple,
Too busy exploring lips to notice her gaze,
On the way home she thought back to that night,
Whispered almost secrets,
The night she went home smiling,
You dressed in black,
She smiled at the simplicity,
Drawn to your open, American charm.
You whispered things in her ear,
She blushed with shyness, embarrassment and desire.
Shyly, she ran her fingers through your hair in awkward affection.
In the evenings, she toyed with the thought of you
and her.
Intermittent late night calls, sometimes the invitation lay on the tip
of her tongue.
She remembered the evening when she wanted more.
Holding onto your shirt, whilst you held her waist,
She imagined letting you in.
She imagined a future.
Till she got scared, and ran away.
hilary kwan 