What balcony could conceal that fate, present
always in parts of the view, the lights, the clouds
that continually cover the moon? We stood upright,
afraid of each other, aware of only a fraction

of our surroundings. We were not lovers--
just two people who admired the moon,
the stars, even obscured by city lights.
We were not lovers, but the closest of friends.

And yet we were afraid, as new lovers might be.
I was afraid, and I could feel you trembling.
The moon was not aware of the awkward
situation it had created between us, two old friends;

but now touch had a new meaning. I had never
before known the electricity of another person’s body,
the little shock of a kiss on a night like this.
We were not lovers-- it was only the spell

the moon casts upon susceptible youths on a night
like this.