He walks into the room.
I feel a painful fearful burn in my chest.
All I want is to leave,
But later a fast talking sister
And a guilt trip,
Plus some begging from him,
Landed me into something unwanted.
Determined to make the best of it.
I got happy.
The AC desided to die.
So there was a thickness to the air.
You could cut it with a knife like butter.
It made simply running your fingers down skin into electricity
And soft kisses were salty from perspiration.
Simple things quickly would escalate into more the complex
Triggered by the intense heat.
Music is plays loudly in the background.
Nothing can be heard.
Caring not for anything
But each other.
They can be heard over the music,
And on the other side of the house.
Three months later.
The AC is fixed
And a baby is on the way.
The father has left.
Knew I didn't like him.

© A.R.Kicinski