If I can but see
those reaching arms before me,

feel flat against my chest
your welcoming breasts;

for me this would content.

If I could but feel
that dizzying quivering
your touch makes,

that for me would content.

If I can see
my own soul stirrings
in your beckoning eyes,
my contour
fitting your contour
perfectly,

I'd sigh
the perfect sigh.

So close we;
paper  thin
the space between;

that all points of contact
blend
smooth skin
against smooth skin.
.
Give me your handkerchief;
wave it
before me;

and here is mine
in sweet
surrender,
buffeted
by that perfect breeze;
my
and your
deep breathing
brings.
mutually;
handkerchiefed.