by Heather Rae

You find me
back splat
to your door
no more
just dropping by.
I can taste
the giddy laugh
riding past
my perfectly timed
pout.
You took your eyes
off the ball
and now
struck dumb
with my table side
landing hard
in your lap.
It doesn’t deter,
rather scurries you
to answer ,
“Don’t hang up!”
sent in
a panicked hush,
barely enough
weight to be
words
still tickle,
all the right
places.
I grab
Your attention,
draw you
In circles,
pulling us both
through each
cresting wave.
My burden
falling with you
knowing no fight
against my straddle.
Pinned down
and no way out
but maybe up.
Sweat lacing
my forehead
in this last leg,
you bringing up
the rear,
to pitch me past
the finish line,
Looks like I
got here first.