First Touch

Your eyes, knowing without studying
direct me to close mine – a few seconds more.
Your sweet tips strike my brow
Then close my eyes with a tenderness
that had driven more than one man wild.

Gently my hands now in yours
are lifted to your face,
The curve of your cheek dropping away
You eyes below my tips, your cheek under my palm,
Your lips gently playing with my fingers.

I gently stroke of the soft drop of your gown
opening at the softness of your throat
draping soft as clouds
along the lightness of your embrace.

There are great epics in men’s minds
Stories of heroism, illusions of conquest and seduction,
Impossible stories, ridiculous stories,
foolish stories we tell ourselves until we believe them.
But in this moment, only the truth of your touch exists.
Nothing else matters.

Gently you bring my hand back to the fall of your hair,
catching the soft chiffon collar.
Again, the soft cheek caresses my fingers.

“Look at me.’

Drifts of light catching your silhouette face.
Your dropped gown revealing soft deliciousness.
A slight chill catches you unawares,
flirting childlike defenselessness,
igniting sensuous explosions of unhidden yearning.

Your face between my hands,
a tender kiss, a journey of discovery,
your hands on my body, your skin soft.
Scented skin, cool to touch.
Each touch a new discovery, each kiss a new us.
In embers of yearning.
each soul outside the other
merged like bodies,
each part of the other,
seeking to be one.

The deft softness of your lips brushing my eyes,
the gentle sweetness of your swaying hips.
The softness of your view,
yearning for eternity.
The strength of my thighs, holding you clasped to me
climbing to heaven.
Dancing the silent melody of discovery.
A discovery of oneness – two souls as one,
two souls now whole.