Milagro
Your first touch
Left me limp
Like dimpled clay
In the hands of a master
Commissioned by God,
Ready to play,
Fingers caressing,
Realigning the bones,
Slipping beneath straps,
Gliding down zippers,
A pro at undressing
My fear cloaked in drapes
And provoking tears to rain
Launched from a dark place,
Amid sighs and whimpers
Building to strident confessions
While my contorted face
Morphs between bliss and pain –
These are my impressions of you.
© 2011 Chantale Rêve
All Rights Reserved
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