Five senses technically A common physicality. Distant sight and sound Wave never mind themselves for now, Faintest scent and mildest taste Remembered anyhow, until A touch so intimate Can make all time and space, stand, still. So the intimate will.
Only after my teacher’s words had touched me, Did I love, love to write. At once the masterpieces shook me, The piano taught my hands to play. What tastes and fragrances seduced and nourished Every nerve, but not Before I learned to feel Their intimacy deserved.
These senses know your beauty Knows no common physicality, I need to know that beauty now With every sense's hands. Here, your intricacies rival poetry or piano-
How the color of your lips will Pair the taste of your skin, The depth of your sighs Should I caress your back and feet, The tone of your laughter Should I tickle you instead- Vengeful and defiant, or A sense of pure joy- With all time and space holding still, So the intimate will.