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