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Click hereLong artistic fingers;
So different from her own
Pudgy digits.
She looks down in shame.
So serious the face,
Strong the jaw
Shadow of a beard,
Not a shade of a man
He is real, tangible,
Not a figment of her imagination
Wondering if he will look at her
As she looks at him.
Trace the eyebrows lightly
With fingertips of pure silk;
Follow the face
Weaving down to the neck;
Whispers of feeling
Shivers of excitement,
A fire to roar
Heat to ward off the chill of night.
Knowing the mind,
Wants to know the body.
So forward, this woman
Inhibitions... she trembles with them.
God, to have those eyes, stare at her
Could she read the feeling behind them
Make those full lips part in a smile
Feel those hands, those exquisite hands..