 | He touches me like whispers, his fingers wake my skin,
To delicate unspoken words his heart sometimes holds in;
Emotions restless on his sleeve, but show themselves in touch,
Screams "I love you, trust in me", even in its slightest hush;
He touches me like waves, with force then with finesse,
I float upon his movements, shipwrecked for caress;
He sways me with a passion that I've never felt this deep,
I would drown into his arms if in his waters I could sleep;
He touches me like magic, without a fingertip at all,
A look, a smile from him sends me climbing up love's walls;
Skin dancing with impatience, with a need I can't explain,
His presence has me squirming with desire's aches and pains;
He touches me like habit- like he's been touching me for years,
Guides me through a crowded room or holds me when there's tears;
As natural and as faithful as a day begins and ends,
His touch repeats itself like rhythm as my lover and best friend;
Never careless, never angry- always molded to my needs,
Makes me high as clouds but brings me weak to bended knee;
Has me teary-eyed with happiness or moaning with desire,
Can chill me with his slight of hand, then set my flesh on fire;
I could plead for it to stop but than I'd only beg for more,
He touches me in ways that I have not been touched before... |  |
LOADING