Touched
A foreign language of touch lingers
upon every brush and every finger
soft scrolls of wonder gently lain
caressing visions and erasing pain
Whisp the winds as the candle burns
Every inch she rests as her body yearns
I kneel down at her alter and prey
mounds arising from the East and the West
a nocturnal migration of supreme surrender
to dwell in such peaks of wealth I behest
Eyes lock as a wanted hunger still grows
nailed to her body with every movement chose
words unspoken in long rolled tongues
the hours suffer and I become undone
Rivers rush deep in a valley lain low
A love, a touch, a need bestowed
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