Curl over to me, deep breath of what is waiting.
Sly sinking between expectations and formality.
This game we play, back and forth and always forward,
scratches at the worlds low intent.

Between fingers, high velocity, skin on skin,
a kind sense of ownership.
Side glances, quick steps,
heart speeding, flurried short words.
I want your answer.

The night closes for business
as we stand eye to eye.
The rest just stops briefly,
extending us to this moment.

Soft light on a timid stretch of seconds,
Awkward but seasoned,
I dreamt of you.