The hallway narrows at the kitchen door
and we both try to pass at the same time
her chest against my chest for one full breath
her hip bones hard against the ridge of mine
We stop, suspended in the wooden frame
too tangled up to simply step aside
her hands flat on my stomach, pushing back
but pushing slow, like something wants to slide
I smell her shampoo and the wine she drank
and underneath the salt-sweet human scent
that lives along her collarbone and neck
where pulse meets skin meets pure goddamn intent
We do this dance of angles and excuse
pretending that we fit this tight by accident
pretending that the doorway made us choose
to press together, hot and hesitant
She laughs it off but does not move away
her fingers still pressed flat against my ribs
I feel her breathe, the rise, the fall, the rise
her belly pushing warm against my hips
Somebody in the living room calls out
and breaks the spell like dropping something glass
she slips around me, trailing fingertips
across my waist as she squeezes past
I stand there in the empty frame alone
still feeling where her body pressed on mine
the ghost-shape of her burning through my clothes
like sunlight through a window, line by line