Rhapsody

//13: the magic.

the sun is setting, finally -
a prick of blinding brightness
in the mauve sky.
the clouds are like strokes
of indigo
across the yellow light
that's fading, bit by bit.

by the time they walk slowly
up the path to the grey-bricked house
the sky is already an unforgiving
black. the streets are silent,
lit only by lamplights.
even summer can't fight back when
night sends its winds.

she takes his hand, this time,
locking their fingers,
huddling close to share the warmth
of their bodies.
she still chats on, excitedly
about the musicians and the music;
and he watches her softly.

what are you doing? she asks
when she catches him staring.
he smiles.
watching you.
that's creepy.
no, it's not. you were staring at those musicians onstage
nonstop, especially that red-haired violinist; don't think i
didn't notice.
aww, are you jealous? she teases.
nope, he says. i've got you, haven't i?
she opens her mouth to retort
but he ends their evening
with a kiss.

it's
beautiful
and magical

just like the music.