It was purely by chance,

            As much, I suppose, as anything can be

            He was doing nothing again, but liked

            The senseless feel of a bazaar, open air markets

            With their cakes and cheese,

            The pacified throngs

            She fiddled with a string of beads,

            Which she never wore, by the way

            Too late to turn their heads

            Unshadowed both, a slight startle,

            Then faltering initial pleasantries

            And it was a very hot day

            On top of it all, 

            So for them to be out on the 

            Unkind streets . . . 

            She laughed when he offered to buy

            The baubles, colourful and cheap

            Even without bargaining,

            And just as good at jibes

            She promised not to strangle him

            With them

            A drink was civil, though, and

            Justifiable

            Their ease in the noonday sun,

            Forgotten thirsts, the vanishing – 

            It was impossible 

            If they could get beyond the question

            Had their sanctuaries been transgressed,

            That tender fold just beneath her chin,

            His lower spine?

            How they kissed and kissed