Truly yourself you are.
You touch me,
so nearly there,
yet far.
touch
touch
drifting in the light
of a tender touch
letting tension go
feeling so alive
taking it so slow
let the loving flow
following the curve
she’s my violin
i sense her body sing
la la la –
her skin
that’s where it begins
rolling through the arc
sliding to the bridge
touching ev’ry nerve
reaching to the edge
coming down again
swooping on her sound
flying
falling in
Skin
passion is passing, affection is pure
love doesn’t have to be physical
i will quell this desire
but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched
if I didn’t love you this feeling would never exist
there is no satisfaction anywhere else
there is no temptation I can’t resist
but my skin is on fire
it yearns to be touched
there are so many other things we can do
i don’t understand why i want this so much
it’s not the most important aspect of you
but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched
turning my mind away as far as I can
filling my head with other thoughts
thoughts that cool, hoping for peace
but my skin is on fire
it longs to be touched
city profile feather
i walk through Hyde Park
as dawn rises to morning
my head still full of music, trance dance,
spins in the freshness of early risen light
i head for the river, embankment, bridges
passing a cafe window i catch her glance
a smile, she turns away to her coffee
the image of her profile engraved on my retina
i walk on and never forget her
such are the tricks of chance and no chance
i watch the arc of a pigeons flight
a feather drops at my feet
a second gift from this city
the only gift i can touch
The Dreaming Path 