Grab my hips,
Kiss each freckle
like the Sun kissed me
during those hot, fiery days
of June and July…

Place your hands
along my thighs,
Draw with those fingers
like Michelangelo drew god’s and the Son’s hands
all those centuries ago…

Touch my lips,
Taste my tongue
like you taste rum
on a Winter evening,
careless for that old Sun…

Drape your arms
Around my chest,
Feel the beating of my heart
like the synchronization of an orchestra
inside the Sistine Chapel…

What I’m saying—
is Feel me,
like Romeo felt that Dagger
Penetrate his Heart—
Make Our Love Your Art.

Brinn W.