“Are you nervous?”
She held me close, not with her hands, with her eyes; I was at her service.
The air was wearing thin, and it wasn’t from nerves, she now held me, I was captive, under her pin.
She illuminated me with her subtle laugh, I was out of oxygen, her lips were my mask.
So I tugged at her black tee, navigating her to my lips, and in that moment, she refilled all that spilled from me.