he asks me what i do
i tell him i work for a small company
that makes packaging for—
he stops me midsentence
no not what you do to pay the bills
what drives you crazy
what keeps you up at night
i tell him i write
he asks me to show him something
i take the tips of my fingers
place them inside his forearm
and graze them down his wrist
goose bumps rise to the surface
i see his mouth clench
muscles tighten
his eyes pore into mine
as though i’m the reason
for making them blink
i break gaze just as
he inches toward me
i step back
so that’s what you do
you command attention
my cheeks flush as
i smile shyly
confessing
i can’t help it.