you sat on the floor while I,
I blinked for every time
a memory presented itself
selflessly from the shelf
of cliché lovers’ undertakings.

and the way you hesitated
while my breath was held baited
you arm wanted to reach out
to halt the seconds I was keeping count
until you looked away from me.

your slow voice was steady
it convinced me I was ready
to let the floor rise to meet me,
to let the smooth bass induce sleep,
but the moment was too precious.

the curves became more graceful
when you brought to the table
the factors of your senses
which erased all my defenses
so all you saw
was me sitting on the floor.