Cafe

A dangerous delirium:
Her mouth mere inches from mine,
Smell of lilies hanging
On the delicate ridges of her collarbone.
She inhales,
And when she exhales,
The smell of smoke taints her breath.

Rising to leave,
I stumble,
Lightheaded.
Her hands catch me, lingering on my waist
A few seconds longer than necessary.

Even as she lets go,
My body holds on to the feeling.
Phantom hands
That capture me
Willingly.

-anna