Lend me your hand,
drape your fingers over me and relax.
Trace the outline of my body,
barely coming into contact with my supple skin.
Use my skin as your ballroom floor,
as your fingers dance to a beautiful ballad.
Have me lingering onto the last touch,
and yearning for the next.
Glide over every inch of me,
bring forth goosebumps to my surface.
For if your fingertips were pens - and I, paper,
my entire body would be inked with your love.
Let not a single space on my skin go untouched,
don’t let any part of me fade and disappear.  
Cover me in your penmanship,
and make my existence permanent.