Hands on knees, eyes closed,
Tracing the lines to secret nirvana;
Fingers on thigh, seeking out the
Least breathless way to crest.
I'm trying to push away thoughts,
But its your face I see somehow;
Your warmth I felt somewhere,
My saltish tears I tasted somewhat.
My fingers on my mauve lips,
Somehow it's your soft lips I felt;
My cries in the darkened tunnel,
Its your laughter I heard.
We keep playing games of
Distance and nearness; push and pull;
I close my eyes in agony,
Only to see the pleasure in your eyes.
Copyright © Winepoetess 2017