Maybe…

Maybe, baby,
it’s better we come back down
before this thing learns how to breathe.

Because the way you look at me…
like your hands already know
what my skin tastes like…

that’s the kind of trouble
that ruins good men.

Maybe we poked a hole in the spark.
Maybe we let the night slip
through our fingers
before it turned into something
that could swallow us whole.

Ain’t no need
to come back around.

It was sweet.

God… it was sweet.

Your voice low
like velvet soaked in whiskey,
your breath hovering near my neck
like you were deciding
whether to kiss me
or confess something dangerous.

But I think
we should call it a night.

Because baby…
I’m fire when I burn
and ice when I’m done playing warm.

I’m lavender smoke
curling through the room slow…
soft enough to seduce you,
strong enough to choke you.

And you…
you can’t handle my mouth
or my fight.

You want a woman
who whispers.

I’m the kind that laughs
while the room catches fire.

So how about we say
we tried.

Two fools
standing on the edge of something wicked
pretending gravity wasn’t watching.

We took that shot in the dark
and baby…

I don’t think it’s worth
standing our ground.

Maybe it’s best
you be on your way.