cutaneous

I remember the first time I touched you:

the smile that crawled upon my lips

when our hands met,

the electricity building between us

and set free as your hips pressed into mine.

Touching you has become my captor and my release.

Skin.

The protective shield that lets you in,

owning every inch of my organ,

my nerves rejoicing at your gentle caress.

The creamy feel of running my fingers

down the skin wrapped around your spine.

The shivers sent upwards, as your soft lips

plant kisses my shoulders, leaving a faint trace:

a longing, a craving for more.

Every pore of me seeks your embrace.

I have never felt more at home

than with your skin against my skin,

eternally, beautifully, willingly captive.

I am certain we have never been closer to Heaven here

except when your naked body brushes against mine,

releasing every pain, every sorrow, every regret.

And although our fate is the same, and our

bodies may crumble with death

returning to ashes and dust,

evaporating water and blood and flesh;

I will never forget what it is like

to touch your outermost layer.

i wrote this july 1st, 2013. for ryan, of course. i like it.