Rebirth Poem by Israh Sadan

He places his hand
on the small of my back
It tingles and burns
On my skin and within.
As his hand moves
I feel the warm web grow
A welcome sensation,
Deep and Low.
The warmth is liquid,
A longing, A need
Like a hungry monster
that needs to feed.
His pressing need
Now pressing gently.
Feeling breathless incidentally.
While warm whispers
Tickle my nape
I feel his intentions
Taking Shape.
Preparing eagerly to answer a yearning.
Don't think he knows I'm only learning
Can't think
Can't care
Can't wait
Can't stop
*sharp breath*
searing soaring
Can't explain
Can't tell pleasure or pain
Clinging, clutching, chaos.
Relief
carried on current of disbelief
And slowly back to earth i waft,
His eager touch now so soft.
Lying in a breathless pile,
Allow sensations to linger a while
Tracing shadows on clamy skin,
My life as a woman can now begin.