May… with a smirk

May… with a smirk

May shows up like a wink and a dare,

half spring, half “I don’t really care.”

It doesn’t knock. It doesn’t wait.

It leans on the doorframe, runs a little late.

Patience loosens. Pride unties.

Skin remembers what fabric hides.

Even “maybe” changes tone,

turns into a sweet, slippery yes on its own.

Say it once and it feels polite.

Say it slow, it starts a fight.

Windows stay open longer than planned.

So do conversations.

So do glances that start as an accident

and end up being " don't mind".

This is the month that smiles back

when you test it.

That leans in just enough

to make you wonder who'll move first.

Promises loosen, rules unbutton themselves.

Nothing breaks

it just shifts

into something that remembers how to breathe

without making a big deal out of it.

May doesn’t seduce.

It suggests.

May doesn’t flirt.

It doesn’t persuade.

It doesn’t push or plead or press.

It just stands there,

tilts its head,

and waits for you to say yes...

And somehow, by the time you notice,

you already did.