Inhaled Slowly

I press into your lips
and breathe.
It may seem like I’m holding
on to you,
but really,
you’re holding on to me.

Your fingers wrapped around
my attention,
you pull me,
a slow drag
flavored in infatuation.

You taste like
I can tell you anything.
And you fill my lungs
with your deepest secret.

No one taught me how to want
like this
not wanting
to put you down.
not wanting
to be anywhere else.

When I breathe you in,
it’s not just air.
You center me.

You press your lips to mine,
slow
and deliberate
and wait,
lighting the shadow
of my throat,
inside no one sees.

A place you call home,
the way
I’ve inhaled you.

It may seem like I’m holding
on to you,
but really,
you’re holding on to me.

You, too, click
like keys
thrown on the counter.