I want to touch

the sharp taste

of the moment in between

the second just before

the place where

the breath catches in

anticipation.

 

It's the scent of heat held in the air

between two mouths

reaching for each other, hungry.

The shine of moisture on slightly parted lips

just before

it melts into

the wetness of the other.

 

It is the skin that tingles

waiting

fine hairs at attention

reaching

aching.

It is the places that have not yet been touched

but know they will be.

It is the smooth, quivering paleness

of the inner thigh

as the outer is stroked and kneaded.

The muscles of the abdomen tightening

the back arching slightly

begging

come here

quickly

slowly.

 

There, in that moment

do not take your eyes from mine.

I am here

awake

I am

reaching

to be

met.

 

Do not touch me and keep your soul

out of your fingertips.

Die into me

or do not come into me at all.

Ever after is in this moment

happily or not.

 

Sacrifice the daydream.

Dare to hold the desire

for a great love.

 

Be with me.

 

Oriah ©1995