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Meet you in the kitchen,

Meet you in the kitchen,
Where hands are busy,
But heads are turning,
Trying their best to
Wander into dancing;
Hands slip on hips,
And we lose the world
To be at once found
While letting go that
Which keeps us held.

So many days finding myself
Against your wishes, giving in
To the dreams had while ‘wake,
Folding in two at the sight of
You, but how odd the two of
Us to think the taut matters
When we would rather unravel
And feel the thread got’ wet.

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musings & scribbles