Touch Quartet 2: In Focus
Draw me into you,
Hold my despair
At close range,
No distance maintained.
No audible language,
Glide of slick palm,
Electric finger pads,
Silk and steel dominion.
Fire and ice roses shed
Petals to hot skin
Caressing; muscular
Sinews teased exquisite.
Life in explosion,
Slow motion fragments,
Climaxes seamlessly
At spiritual touch
Draw me into you,
Extract my torture;
Make all become clear framed,
Crystal in focus.
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