Meeting in Senses.

The Waiting. 

 

Eyes scan the platform, darting here and there, scoping strangers, frantically searching for him. Winter coverings move of their own volition. No face registers awareness. No face searches her soul, for none is he.

The train pulls in at last, new coats alighting, no recognition in the sea of movement. Left and right, garments hurry by, beyond her interest and eyes.

Then she sees him. She knows him. She has always known him. Every coat around disappears and there is only one face…..looking directly at her.

 

The Meeting. 

 

Movements speed up while time dwindles to nothing. An endless approach, eyes never leaving eyes. Distance enlarges and diminishes. Keeping two apart. And drawing them closer together.

Without warning, time returns to normal measure. Then launches into overdrive, the two racing towards one another in hurried footsteps that seek to end the waiting.

In seconds, only two exist. One to one. Eyes drink eyes for the briefest of infinite moments, acknowledging the other soul. Hands reach out, hers to touch his face. The kindest face she’s ever known.  He allows this exploration for just some seconds, knowing her need to touch his flesh, to admit the understanding. His hands then reach to clasp her head and draw her to him. He breathes her in, recognising her scent as a long known drug from other years. No more delay. Lips meet. In hunger and knowing. They begin to devour. To consume the other. A taste of honey draws two closer still. Nothing may keep them apart. No sound exists but rushing blood in the ears as circulation escalates to building pressure.

A gasp apart. A wildness in the eyes. The anxious, endless lifetime of waiting is over.