A caress on the knuckles,
which was a plea to heal,
slowly affirming a grip, giving
my fatigued being, a cushioning feel
to convey of the battles fought with the world each day,
that to others may seldom be known,
but return when I shall, louder than my bruises, this hold shall say
"you've done well, and fret not, you're not alone".
An innocent polite tug from the grip,
a persuasion to follow her lead, to take a stroll
into the orchards, towards that moment of the sunset,
when the sea's golden carpet feels the fade, of
the last of its day's sheen, then can she command,
with, a pulling demand, that while our arms cuddle,
shall she on my shoulder, her head lean..
With some courage my fingers whisper to hers,
what my lips couldn't to her ears, veiled by
those dark strands, hence letting my fingers
softly make its case, to take refuge between hers,
where once entered they wish to feel enclosed,
in that desire they pray to hers for salvation.
allowed they were,
enclosed they were,
for their sincere cajoling,
rewarded they were,
and while those dark stranded veils were lifted
when i blew a soft warm breeze,
our fingers indulged in a banter, of parting to unite,
only to feel the heat of what had begun,
with an intention to just tease...
to survive and to indulge in this storm of passion
our fingers answered the calls to enclose,
vowing not to abandon in that exciting embrace
letting that wall be the witness of their brazen confession, for,
it felt every thud and drag, as they reveled in their flows
yet when doused was desire's each ember,
they flirtingly parted to unite ,
to recall relive and that moment remember.
and later when in a peaceful slumber they were,
my thumb to enquire, slid, to the ridge of her wrist,
and found its peace, in listening, to the echo
of the drumming beats within me,
declaring this blissful reality, in which we now exist.
