At one point in the evening
You pulled your hands down to your jeans
Flipped the line of your boxers so it lay flat proudly displaying “fruit of the loom”
And then rested them there
Thumb in the belt loop
Fingers grasping beside the buckle
And I wanted to slide out from behind you
Where I sat massaging your head
And spin around to rest above those hands
Pull them up along my thighs
Place mine firmly behind your head
Bury them in your thick pepper hair
Lean down
And kiss you