Fingers seek the soft
responsive to a breath
quivering in sunlight
they graze my skin
raising polka dot flesh
tendrils arc to the rise in temparture
Captivated by graceful, sensual movement.
his hands moving gently,
magnifying his words…
me, also watching these hands
hold-a brush, a pencil or a piece of charcoal
floating across the surface
like a caress
trailing curves and angles
onto the white…making his mark.
The gentle roll of the drawing hand
Moving back and forth
The flex of the wrist,
An index finger poised before applying pressure to a widening line.
The symmetry of the breath and the hand movements creating, expressing…
My eyes follow the movement…
Mesmerized by the beautiful structure of these hands…
Curious to know how the graceful hands would feel
moving across the hollow of my cheek…
For Steve Sanford
I’ve wanted one tattoo.
Two small words.
At that special place.
I have been told, men like direction.