Curve

I love the word Curve, the loveliest 

distance between two points.

I love the way my hands run along 

your curves, mapping it in my memory

I love how the change of texture

from the front, soft, pliant, rubbery

changes to the side, soft, firm, and 

ticklish.

And from the side to the back

skin much tighter, from the fullness

of what lies behind.  No, don't deny

yourself of what you have

For it was your curves that caught my eye

and curves of your face, in that delicate smile

or the roundness of your eyes, or the curves

of your lips that quenches my lust

And I love the curves of your hands 

as they hold mine, finger caressing finger.

I love the word Curve, the loveliest

distance between two points.