Deux

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Each breath shorter than the last
followed by empty bellows
lost in the ether.
Your fingers run the length of my spine
and find their way to their home,
deep in the petals,
that mark the difference between you and I.
Moisture on my neck
a hesitation builds inside me
only to release in the moment it should so choose.
My fingers reach and coil
and grasp for flesh to appease
the hunger in all "dix."
My lips separate softly
my furrowed brow
my glistening skin
by candlelight is defined
do you see me now?

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