Your fingertips,
the gentle brush against my skin,
the trembling it caused,
frightened me.
So new was this experience,
the overwhelming flood of emotions and
happiness.
You elated me.
You were lovely.
So lovely.
I could not handle your fingertips,
as they brushed against my trembling skin.
Every motion you made with your fingertips
I could read as if you were writing a book upon
my flesh.
I was a blank page,
and you were the pen.
Your fingertips,
pouring ink all over this new found feeling.
I wish you would never stop writing.