him and her.

>we sit together on a patio at a cafe on a grey, october day, under a canvas awning, deep in the lower east side. We drink super stong espressos and say nothing and just watch the people and traffic and rain and sometimes our fingers meet across the little round table, or our legs touch underneath it. And you smoke, and look bored, but i know your mind is always working and i want to know what you're thinking but i stay quiet instead to just watch you. Your legs are crossed, and your bangs are cut short. Your nails are painted the shade of indigo i like best, and you dangle the cigarette like you couldn't care less about anything and in that moment you are perfect and i adore you.

>> I ask you if you'd like a cigarette, but you just motion to have me hand you mine, fiery orange line just past halfway. You take a long drag and put your arm back down, resting your elbow on the back of the chair. Another minute or so passes and I take out another one for myself, you're lost across the table in the smoke, yours now, and staring into the rain clouds. I reach across to gently touch your face, and you reciprocate times two by using your left arm to grab a handful of hair next to my ear and pull my lips into yours. One long deep kiss, we stop, I sit back down, I smile a little and get back to my thoughts.