I will see you in December
until then, what I’ll remember most
about that King Street phone booth is
not the full-blooded crush of your lips,
not the thudding of your heart against its bars,
but the vision of my hands
steepled between us
and the criss-crossed rubbing of your palms
against my kindling fingers
trying to start a fire
About the author: Joshua Sarkis Prowse is a teacher, writer, geek, music and sports enthusiast, and zealot for clear communication in all forms. This is where he rants about writing and editing. You can read other stuff at joshprowse.com. 
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