- Erotic Poetry
- Without Hands
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The temperature is just right for
Drops of crystal that cling to silver handles.
Their cousins dancing in the air
In the gentle ballet of a warm tease.
The metallic squeak echoes across the tiled room
Forcing the tingling spray to splash its continuous journey
Down, around and under -
Dripping through the valleys, nobs and crannies
Of what, when and who we are.
Mutual invitation has brought us to the precipace.
You with you curves, short hair and sexy body -
Me with my boyish build, long hair and lustful thoughts,
But the spark in our eyes; yours brown, mine blue
Grant untold yes's to our closed borders.
Standing toe-to-toe in the tight confines,
I lick a drop from your cheek
As you attempt to pass the soap
Without using your hands.
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