The Corner Booth

The blue seats, the silver counter glistening
as you walk me in. Seated in the corner booth
you against the window, menus waiting.
We glance over the menus at each other,
a quick smile as we both order waters.

Heartbeat racing beat by beat yet you
and I are so natural in our element.
You in your Carhartt, me in my boots,
we share a plate of gravy fries,
one of your favorites.

But we pay no attention to the food,
plates don't matter as the conversation
flows, smiles exchanged, you hand
me the keys as you pay the check
as we hop into your gold Chevy Blazer.

Cruising on by, country music
blaring from the speakers,
it's so surreal and so perfect
as your hand rest on the center console,
mine next to it as you take it in yours.

You drive one handed, squeezing
my hand tight, I breathe a happy
sigh of perfection as you pull up
to my apartment. Unbuckling seatbelts
we go for the kiss and the rest
is history.