Pretenses

Another warm day
and you come out
with your friends.
I saw you smiling
was it for me?
What do your friends think?
Do they long for my hands?
We could all dance together
the four of us.
We could lie in the grass
warming in the sun
and in each other.
Passerbys could jealously stare
pointing fingers at
the lines of our sonnet.
You and your friends
could fall from the tree-
ripened red passion fruit-
lusciously melting in my mouth.
We could be stringless puppets,
stringing each other along,
trading empty promises
one coffee ground at a time.