Hands are everything.
It was past conjecture; ever since  
The atmosphere upsurges when the bosses are retired.
His eyes & yours swell with knife moves.  
Your brain stores many kinds of pleasure. & his the same.  

A genome led you to him..  
He smiles with no wisecracks about your bluffing kowtow & innocence    
— nothing to discredit &  
— no hell to pay!

...the rain keeps raising rules of thumb, bringing it all back.