The Touch of Your Look

by f-cynyr ©

When I stood within arm’s
reach and you, your eyes
soft and whispering to my
lips, your hands gently touched
me, singing their joy and flutter
as they travel my length and warmth.

When I moved vanishing
that small infinite distance
between you and my trembling
need, I have to capture and bind my
breath that threatens to surround
and swallow you in a moment
of mouths and arms.

When I stood in the binding
of your sight, the touch of your look
swallowed my timid desire . Your arms
imprisoned the trepidation of my lips,
and the hymn of your pressing fingers
folded me forever into you.