Her skin, a whisper of satin against my own,
goosebumps rise, a shiver, from fingers to bone.
They travel like stars in a night’s gentle climb,
up her hand,
through her spine,
a dance sublime.
Her skin, a whisper of satin against my own,
goosebumps rise, a shiver, from fingers to bone.
They travel like stars in a night’s gentle climb,
up her hand,
through her spine,
a dance sublime.
