Fingers begin,
tip to tip
till the pulse heats, then
leans us into each other and
twines out
along shoulder curve,
snaking down spines,
flows us into each other.
I pool on the flat of his back,
rump arches into soft belly,
thrusts me up to glide with him.
I roll away,
take him with me,
surrender to the wash of
thighs drifting over breasts.
Hands play out,
find each other,
small dance where
quiver passes skin to skin.
