My fingers itch
My palms sweat
Salivia slithers
And slides down
My throat
My legs twitch
As your hands hover
Over my love handles
Your skin
Caresses carelessly
And I clench my hands
My stomach stays still
Empty from the epitome of
Butterflies that should
Exist there
Instead my brain urges
The idea
Maybe the nagging numbness that never
Negotiates will navigate somewhere else
Maybe I might feel funny, fantastic,
Or furious
Your hands trace circles
On my ******* bringing a trail
Of goose bumps
Yet I feel nothing
The numbness never seems
To end