Meeting

We had 
promised 
to meet 
in our favorite 
restaurant—
there is hardly 
a word
we hear 
over the music and 
cool drinks 
we get for each other
in weightless 
Styrofoam cups. 
We leave—
our fingertips 
touching,
promising to call?
Talk uninterrupted?
At least try—
in the tiny space
left,
between 
screeching wheels,
of the evening commute!
Yes, yes
we can always
email—
write,
think
a few words
that breathe 
and let the sun shine 
on their faces!
I found our promise 
not long afterwards 
in the mailbox, 
“Forward: take the true love test!”