When I look at her,
those moons of fondue eyes,
she tilts her chin to return the gaze
and in this intersection
we share a secret.

My lips spark all the way
to my ears, which
wiggle a bit
as my eyebrows raise
and in response
her tail wags quick—

I know it.
She knows it.
In this intersection
we share a secret.

Then
inevitable
we go,
each one back to her business.

I regain a grip on my pen and
she lays her chin on the cafe floor

But our secret stays,
soft and palpable
with the hint of a tail
in perpetual motion–
for both of us.

The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem and creates meaning. Here is my mine: