Thresholds

I have not yet passed through
this self-conscious threshold
of the new, still unknown you
with your silken limbs, sculpted hips, 
your shoulders hard, round, pebble-smooth.

I can make you twitch and groan, as I tease, 
as I move, cause ripples to rise beneath your skin,
chain reactions to a finger-trace.
I cheshire-grin at my still raw power, 
my love you were nice tonight, 
I wish you could have stayed.

previous poem