Awkward trimmings

Crossed looks meet
muscles tense
and fingers freeze
Like a deer in headlights,

Reaching out blindly.
Connection, connect.
Together. Breathe.
Tentatively touching your hand
Searching, gently, breathless again.
Holding it in.

Is it safe to sigh?
Clearing my throat
I turn to you
Wondering if you are feeling
as awkward
as me.

Minutes soothe the tension
Or perhaps we adjust
Alter. Adaption.
But evolution?
I think not.
We continue to travel backwards
through time.

Fingers squeeze.
Reassurance. Hope.
Please?
Promise? Mutual admission.
Aceceptance.
We let out a long breath
and start all over again.