Pistol Whip

dinner’s finished,
plates wiped clean
you hear the neighbor’s music
from across the hall slither in
behind closed doors
making the flame on the candle between us
pulse and jive
burning the mirage masking the room

inhale—
the room goes black
with a blink, gravity shifts
and now we are weightless,
exhale—
lights on, power trip,
free fall, magnetic shift,
gravity’s returned, but it’s pulling
the wrong direction.
time stops, we’re at a standstill

a warm spotlight illuminates us
warming my skin
framing us
separating us from the rest of the room,
my stomach contracts as the pull strengthens
like a gust from a spring storm
my ribs press against the table

i hold my breath
your mouth opens
your words drizzled in warm honey
sweeten silky skin til sweat drips
down the curve of your back
tongue glides and pokes
heat rising with every stroke

Brow furrowed,
chin drops then goes up again
as I touch my fingers
sink in, then wash down to my
chest rises, then sinks

filling my chest with
summer sun
like two kids
unsupervised
without a care
in the air