Then it slammed on your skin,
right in the kisser,
the leathery wallop
ski dd in g m a d l y t h r o u g h y o u r m o u t h .
Next came the blossoming pain,
a stinging ring
where the fist made contact
and you stagger back
in a muddled shock.

It was an accident;
I was getting into it,
thumping your left,
your right hand, fury
brewing inside me from somewhere
like a bonfire beside my heart.

I kiss you where it hurts,
the tingle of your stubble
rolls along my bottom lip.
What have I done?
Did I mean to leave
another burn on your face?
You don’t even blink,
a lingering black stare
and whisper with your eyes
what was that about then?

A chuckle skitters into the night.
Thought it was nothing
but now seems it’s something.

Let’s keep going.

It can be forgotten.

You jam the glove back over my wrist
and I’m ready again,
maybe, just a maybe,
hoping that I miss.