Summer
So soft the folds of satin fall, her skin beneath it ripples
I’m lost in observation and my own skin starts to move.
Supple limbs create their own embrace around my thoughts
Circling somewhat lazily and gazing out toward me
In almost fragrant air I imagine that I taste her
In visual understanding, my impulse is alive.
Now I drift into a dream where we are not apart
I touch with fingers slow and warm, her navel and its lair.
Slipping deftly through the maze inside,
I slide my hook right in.
Slurping with my hand I find a world of joy and pleasure
Tickling the spot, I feel as if I’ve touched myself.
I have. She holds the air within, And lets it out in little puffs.
Jkf
7/4/11