a place on my spine still hums
from when you touched it last.
for it was the first time you revealed
that you wanted more than what we had--
as if you were standing at the ocean's edge,
dipping your fingers beneath the waves
to determine if it was warm enough to jump in.
so cautious,
yet hungering to be consumed
in the possibility of deluge.
come closer, you urged:
your fingers pressed in the shoal of my back,
and the tide pulled you in.