We awaken to one another
Slowly, oh so slowly
Slight petals of self
Unfurl one by one
We come to trust
In miniscule increments
The affections we bask in
Will not blink out and disappear
With but a moment’s notice
Small furled parts of me
Creep timidly to the edge of shadow
Peer with longing eyes
At the soft warmth of your hands
As you stroke
My hair, my lips, my thighs
Ever closer they come
Respond to your coaxing
When you murmur sweet things
In a voice low & warm with flame and promise
While the soft warmth of your hands
Stroke more intimate parts of me
Until I must surrender one more bit of self
Then lie curled and warm,
Protected in your embrace until dawn.
11/26/05
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, \ Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit \ Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, \ Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. ~~71, Rubainat of Omar Khannam
Saturday, November 26, 2005
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1 comment:
Sigh. A, I *love* this.
...Respond to your coaxing
When you murmur sweet things
In a voice low & warm with flame and promise
While the soft warmth of your hands
Stroke more intimate parts of me
Until I must surrender one more bit of self...
Damn.
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