It’s cute.
No, really.
You think you’re the one testing me.
A vine of hair,
twisted,
lashes curled.
We’ll see.
She rolls it around in her mouth.
Mm.
She does.
Palms on the stove.
Holding two truths
between her teeth.
Push.
Pull.
Catch.
Release.
And her
biting lips,
holding.
Mm.
A quiet shift
in her chest.
Not loud.
Not reckless.
Decided.
Tension in sleeves,
in sips of coffee
too h…
