Chancing Cross-Paths

With you, I feel star tips kiss my forlorn skin,
transpiring the dank coward quivering
under stairways listening cautiously
to lovers part ways; I slice my own feet
on laid concrete, stepping
towards your once shy guise, chancing.

At no moment, even when I'm wide awake,
would my hidden heart now ever let me miss
this road to you, not without bumps
which we bravely take to meet half-way,
and that you've had to clear of brush
to make it through to my secluded gate.