Condensation

Two people grasp on to each other
Pulling as close as they can as if they could,
Like drops of condensation on the window of their steaming room,
Somehow join bodies.

Each delights in the breath of the other
Their muscles’ movement and strain and infrequent twitch
Alighting in the other already out of control waves of sensation
Their minds are uncalm.

She knows it will eventually leave her
She worries that it will be soon, in some relativity
She thinks she’ll never find it again, that it is the beginning and the end
She holds him closer.

He thinks on the past, distant and recent
He worries this existence will be sullied eventually
He knows he must end it before that happens, to preserve a beautiful thing
He holds her closer.

Two people fall to sleep in darkness
Dreaming of bicycle races or cakes made together
Of a beautiful past or a beautiful future, of the days when somehow
Two bodies join.