Intertwined Mishaps

Fuschia flashes in brown eyes
as the scent lingers too long.
The memory is there of that night,
that night,
that night.
Crossed fingers and a pocket full of change
spilled to the floor to roll under the furniture.
One chuckle here, another one there.
Awkward movements as our bones shift
and meld
and collide.
A sigh... a deep
desperate
sigh of relief, of exasperation.
That sigh lost in the shuffle
barely noticed by you but my ears caught
that sigh.
Knotted shoelaces in the morning
as the sun catches a glare off of a button
and I count eyelashes, unimportant,
but something,
something
to take my mind away.
Goosebumps from the morning chill of Illinois
in the winter
and curled toes under layers.
A sigh and knotted shoelaces
walk away together.