SMELL SOME CARPET

I got grounded, in a hot way

I found him walking toward me, smiling, his face glad to see mine.

“Why are you so sexy?” he said.

It was his usual greeting. The repetition used to bother me, but now it was a comfort.

I smiled back. I reached for his stubbled cheeks. His skin squished into his mouth as I pulled it toward mine. His lips puckered and sucked at mine. I pushed him back to admire his eyes - I saw a clear day in his mind.

“Are you free?”

He looked at his watch. “For thirty minutes.”

“Good.”

We don’t leave the house much. He and I both work from home. We have two little kids. We live in New York City, but I never say that because it doesn’t feel that way. I live here, in this apartment, and this neighborhood. Four years spent in a half-mile radius, and sometimes even that is too much. Our predictability has protected our peace - we do what we do to be sane and together (- less).

I kissed him again. Square on the mouth - overpowering his pucker, to show him I meant it.

“Cute one,” he said - as he says.

He kissed my neck, as he does, and I pulled away, giggling, as I do.

“Take this off,” he said, an open hand waving past my body.