Saturday, July 20, 2013

the art of love

his hands fold her
like rice paper,
and she becomes
what he desires

as fingers glide,
manipulate,
and meditate
with every stroke.

she is because he does.

i long to be a swan
emerging with your touch,
to feel your hands,
precise and strong,
along my neck
and down my spine.

if only you
could think of me

as a thing of beauty.

if only you
would give me wings.

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