To-And-Fro Poem by Mark Heathcote

Having tried not to inhale her perfume,
He'll try not to linger in her presence.
Otherwise, she'll elevate his heartbeat-
And exhale his careworn soul.

Later, he'll want to take her into his arms.
Her fragrance in the workplace vehicle is a balm.
He'll stop speaking while she is driving.
Their prolonged silence is always agonising.

When the shared -drudgery of work is over,
And the windows close like pursed lips tightly.
It is now too intoxicating to breathe.
The moment is like church incense burning.

It's a confessional box, umming and ahhing.
Who'll go first, and who'll speak last?
Who'll cough up and confess?
Or will they leave and hold their breath?

She'll hedge her bets that he wants a kiss.
He'll hedge his they won't and hold off.
The car log records show their journey.
Start and finish, to-and-fro, but after that, who knows?