Whisper to me softly
like fingers grazing on skin--
slow breaths like early spring mornings
and riverside freshness in the autumn,
emptying both warmth and coolness
into my lungs like liquor drunk in sips;
a clump of lace bunched in my hands.

Whisper to me softly
like the wind whispers to the leaves;
each word a caress on your lips and on my chest,
heaving with desire and emotion and wanting
to collide our bodies violently into one.

Of gazing eyes and tender limbs,
curves of light and dark on bare skin,
full in your words, full in your arms
of whispers held for solely me.