Friday, December 24, 2004

Satin

Before me was a path,
I knew I had to travel.
Bends and dips,
angles and curves
beseeching me
to take that first step.
Once taken, I would
not turn back.

Fingers were my feet,
their pads extra sensitive
so that each movement
over the planes
before me
would feel as if,
it were
the first touch.

No scenery cluttered
the trail of him,
nothing but
the path before me
of flesh and muscle
and my fingers
paved him with
a touch like satin.

~ ~ ~ ~
Nothing like a good massage.

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