My fingers curling and intertwining with his,
Caressing every inch, memorizing each
Curve, crevice, and movement.
Beneath such gentle skin lies the calluses
Formed from pressure and consequence,
Broken blisters of past regret, scars
Visible only to the mind that brushes them.
Still my fingertips kiss the skin with a
Passion that hardly words can speak of,
A stroke so rich, when our hands meet,
The sensation could only be electricity.
Audrey Lynn
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