Your fingertips murmur secrets to my body,
telling me of silken pleasures
and cinnamon scented images
while you enfold me in an embrace of tender strength....
Your lips continue
what your fingertips have started,
my neck...
my shoulders...
slowly down the inside of my arm,
listening closely
for those intimate murmurs
that only I can hear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem