As soft as breathe upon the air,
The wake of passing wings in flight,
Your fingers stroke my skin.
Across the rise of shoulder,
Along the curve of breast,
Between the valleys of my ribs
With grace they gently wander.
Random is the path they choose,
With lightest, sweetest touch,
Ribbons of fire the length of flesh.
Irrevocably, so exquisitely,
Continuing their downward trend
As with intent, your fingers heighten
The force of shared desire.
Curling through the downy hair,
Across the mound of Venus, until
Between my slick and aching lips,
They drive me past the fragile edge
Of sanity and need; penetrating, sliding
Into the spinning depths of lust
Your fingers of delight.
Anonymous
2007 Shaques Publishing Inc.
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