Mid-step

I like when it rains in November, you said,
when dreary skies and leaves stain the sidewalk.
Eyes smiling wide, we kiss in mid-step,
and my head shakes a bit before we touch,
afraid I’ll miss but unwilling to slow. We laugh,
noses scrunched from impact as you exhale,
growling as dragon’s breath envelopes me. Our hands
have sex with everyone watching. They can’t have us.