Like two synapses gasping for air
and a connection so tempting
and pasts that drip with despair,

Heat melts the two together in
a hatchback in the drive
and sweats through
the paper
of my own lotus flower.

When I felt the smile on
beautiful mountain lips,
I couldn’t help but do the same
as we brushed the cuff of our primal
selves.

While it felt arbitrary a tiny bit,
I had thought about it for most of the night—
how I could present it.
And we talked about how
women shouldn’t objectify
each other because we
know better and being who we are,
we had to be better.

My want overtook me and my touch broke loose
and I wanted to be in that moment
for as long as we could.

The sliver of the moon barely lit the
drive
and I found my breath taken from me
as she pulled away.

I always rush tempo,
my heart was leaping forward as
I stumbled up the stairs to find myself home.

And I lie here, unable to sleep,
because I ache for the moment to happen over
and over.
Never have I known such overwhelming contentment.