Sway

We're pressed together
soft as bruised fruit
kitchen light spilling quiet

your heartbeat leaks
through my ribs
as three words slip
between
silence and skin

and I catch
them gentle
as memory

we sway
not dancing
but becoming
in this pocket
of us

your chin rests
on my head
delicate and childlike,
a buttercup
pulling gold light

before hunger
before heat
before anything breaks

too simply

sway