She Moved Me

A moment
through the trees
and into the grove
our forearms run into each other
like two acquitances
     who talked for a long while at a party once.
We ignite into a cascade upwards
from the elbow,
     to the bicep,
          to the shoulder.
We duck together to avoid the branches
and for a moment we feel in sync
                         in step
                         in rhythm
                         in the know
                            the game
                            the world
                            the scene
                            the grove
                                      together.
"The lilac smells good."
I couldn't find it. Or her. So I just drove home with a dead phone.