by Unknown
Mar 2011 241 Views 0 comments
The Hands
THE HANDS
Held in an embrace,
Making your heart race.
Looking at the arms,
That shelter from harm.
Down to the hands clasped in yours,
Generating such a force.
On to the flesh acting as a living fire,
As fingers are entwined with desire.
With skill and grace,
As they caress your face.
A chill running down your spine,
As in your hair they entwine.
All of the feelings rushing through,
Not knowing what to do.
Acting as if they were contraband,
Are those amazing hands.
Held in an embrace,
Making your heart race.
Looking at the arms,
That shelter from harm.
Down to the hands clasped in yours,
Generating such a force.
On to the flesh acting as a living fire,
As fingers are entwined with desire.
With skill and grace,
As they caress your face.
A chill running down your spine,
As in your hair they entwine.
All of the feelings rushing through,
Not knowing what to do.
Acting as if they were contraband,
Are those amazing hands.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
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