Kalamazoo by Beth Haist

What does it mean to possess this moment?
Is it in the swayback of the trail
When you taste the iron of your breath?
But keep pushing on-
Was it how you pulled my hair tight?!
In that
Crescendo of us?
The heat of your unexpected hardness
acquiescing to me–
 Maybe, now
Comfortable enough to laugh
At this serious tango
Of raw need
And intent.