The Body in My Hands

I just want that person in my hands.
To hold her body,
Move it, and move with it.

Skin to skin,
A taste of sin.
Fitting together,
Laying down,
One hand against the side of their face.
One hand in the small of their back.

Lips pressed together.
Foreheads touch.
Noses cross.
Holding each other tight.

Legs tangled.
Hopes bright.
Sheets wrinkled.
Blankets scattered.

Arched back against the fading light,
Peaking in through a windblown curtain.
Intimacy intensified.
Desperately grasping each other.
Light bites of pain and delight.
A physical bout throughout the night.