Your Hands
Sighs of great bliss emanate from all of my senses
At the very sight of your hands
Sweet murmurs of memories evoked in a passion
Mesmerizing in haunting command
I am quieted of motion, stopped in existent time
Thrilled to my core of being
With memories of spaces and faraway places
Your hands take my spirit a fleeing
Strength emits from the coursing of lifeblood
Pulsing within your clasp
Holding my heart in suspended anticipation
Inviting the fire of your grasp
My attention is gravitated by the fire in your eyes
A flame, perhaps I could withstand
If not for the murmurs of sweet memories evoked
When my eyes are caressing your hands
