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