Swimming With the Salmon

the hunger to be touched
burns inside me like never before.
living right now, feeling so fragile,
all my pieces could fly away at the slightest sideways glance
for the want of the sensation that my body is still real.
memories cascade at unexpected moments -
tortures of intoxicating sensuousness
visiting themselves upon heightened senses,
soul harpies taunting with the distance of echoes.

fingers caressing my neck right now would be welcome.
sensation of tips rippling away from my ear,
gliding down the turning of my throat
to drift over the hollows of collarbones
that lead to the slide down the curve of my breast
with knowledgeable fingers cupping my roundness,
weighing the futures of their possible pleasures.

stretching and purring like a satiated cat
was my usual response at being stroked
into mindless feline mindset
where all that mattered was the scratching
of fingers down the length of me.

teeth that tugged at my earlobe and nibbled their way
anywhere else that they chose,
sometimes gripping my lip to almost pain
and then the slow lick of the tongue
sweeping my silenced mouth.

fingers that surged over the plains and valleys
of my most sacred body ripe with loving,
touching points of intimacy that lovers discover
by accident and to their delight,
leading to the trailing trickle between my thighs
that would reduce me to sighs
and cries of the most pleasured kind.

the lava trail a hot mouth would leave behind
when I was tongue teased until all tides surged forth
taking me down to drown amongst the mermaids
that wound themselves around me in fierce embrace

my bones grow lean with the lack of being held -
it was part of what tied me together
and now nothing is connected.

i want to move with the fluid suppleness
of salmon writhing through the seas
drawn by a call they cannot resist
as I am.