Kitchen slow dance

You’re in the kitchen, dancing and singing to music.

I’ve just walked in the door from finishing work.

You haven’t seen me yet. I just lean against the wall and smile, looking at you.

You’re so cute when you think no one’s watching.

You spot me out of the corner of your eye, still half-dancing.

I pull my fishing line move and fake cast a line to reel you in closer.

You dance away, closer to me.

Then I hug you so tight, like I’m possessed by your embrace.

"I missed you more than yesterday, and the day before. I just miss you more and more each day," I whisper into your ear.

Almost like it’s a silent confession I’ve finally let go from the deepest parts of me.

The song changes to something slow.

I twirl you around and then start slow dancing with you.

You look over at the food on top of the stove—it’s starting to burn.

You start to pull away.

"I have to stir that, or it’s going to burn," you say swiftly.

I pull you back into me, hard, and stare you straight in the eyes.

"Let it burn then. We can order pizza tonight. Let it burn away so I can love you right now, like I’ve been burning all day too. I don't want this moment to end."