it’s just a shimmer in my eyes,

a kneading of a shoulder.

there’s still purposeful space 

between our moaning bodies

. 

i don’t invite you over

nor reach out often,

still we tumble into each other

clumsily, happily

.

never spoken aloud,

or eyes locked longer

than defendable.

somehow your friend 

a stranger to me

has heard so much 

.

it’s just an ember buried 

inside,

the littlest puff of air 

to keep it from snuffing 

.

what’s the harm in 

looking at your lips

& hungering to graze them

.

(3/8/25)