After Dinner Mints

Laughter still lingers

between plates and crumbs,

the hum of the kitchen light

catching the steam of our breath.

You taste like warmth and pale ale,

like the comfort that only

comes after a full day

and a full heart.

I do a little shimmy,

some mix of joy and surrender,

and dart to the other side of the counter.

I don’t know,

maybe it’s the way your eyes

turn soft when they land on me,

or how the air thickens

each time we find each other again.

Another kiss,

and the world narrows

to this room,

this pulse,

this hunger that isn’t for food

but for the way you make it feel

to be known and wanted,

and full.