Should I Decide
Five senses technically
A common physicality.
Distant sight and sound
Wave never mind themselves for now,
Faintest scent and mildest taste
Remember anyhow, until
A touch so intimate
Can make all time and space, stand, still.
So the intimate will.
Only after my teacher’s words had touched me,
Did I love, love to write.
At once the masterpieces shook me,
The piano taught my hands to play.
What tastes and fragrances seduced and nourished
Every nerve, but not
Before I learned to feel
Their intimacy deserved.
These senses chime your beauty’s
No common physicality,
I want to know your beauty now
From underneath their hands.
Here, your intricacies rival poetry or piano-
How the color of your lips will
Pair the taste of your skin,
The depth of your sighs
As I caress your back and feet,
The tone of your laughter
Should I tickle you instead-
Vengeful and defiant,
Or a touch of pure joy,
So the intimate will now remains to be said.