Erotic PoetryHer Quicksand SkinShe never glows.
There is no luminousity,
no radiance, inherent
within the depth of
her flesh to call
to me or my hand;
yet, I find that a
desire to touch that
rough, tanned, befreckled
surface pulls me all
the same; until my
fingers drag me to
her, doing their best
to brush themselves
against her cheeks or
dally around her shoulders until
drawn along her spine
to nestle at the small
of her back and
suck the rest of me
in too deeply,
once
more.
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