Butterfly Hands

Our butterfly hands flutter palely in the gloom
As soft flesh gives beneath cool-sheened satin skin
Through the veil of self-control and thought
Shuddered tension to easeful breathing grants release
Backdrop low cries of fainting pleasure
Cascade-dance of harebell notes so sharp and sweet
You are all, you are nothing save solid warmth and light,
Soaring joy in your eyes lucid in sultry lapis skies.
Lips moving, I carve with my hands
From the darkness, marble shadow-outlines of you.
It seems we are mere children in this most adult art-
Sunshined, awe-eyed, forever bound in heart.