When We Touch


The touch of your hand is a soothing caress

   that stills my restless soul

     your fingers glide to my thighs from your dress

         the sensation of man made whole


Your touch up and down from shoulder to hip

   is the dust of a twinkling star

     the almost imperceptible tip

         of a fairy here from Samovar


Sometimes it’s hard when we have fought

   tough to submit to your touch

     hard to be soft and soothed and taught

       to let you love so much


But then your hand strokes on and down

   your fingers begin to dance

     the spell descends with ecstacy

         intense, exploding trance


Many the day when my walls are up

   many the time when I’m withdrawn

     many the night when your touch brings the cup

         of joy when it’s almost dawn


Riding Mountain, 1995

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