An Epistrophe of Touch and Kiss

You are my empath -- your woman's touch
flows through a perfect kiss
of sliding fingertips, whose touch
is how I choose to feel, myself, with kiss
of whorls on skin by which you touch
your heart's desire, bled through a kiss
of lips on mine, that soft, urgent touch
of longing, trembling skin, the kiss
of flesh upon, beneath flesh -- such touch
I find through you alone, raw kiss
of heart on beating heart, where touch
rubs dreams from blood to blood -- love's kiss.

Scott Speck
04/24/2002