Kindle
I strike a match—a flicker.Possibility crackles in the air;a sparkdances between usbefore the flame catches. Eyes meet.Heat rises—a silent pulse,a force older than the sunpulls us in. My breath catches.Inches feel like milesjust beforethe touch of fingertipsor the brush of lips,the space betweenheavy with the scentof desire— a breath held,on the edgeof touch.