After Edgar Degas'
"After the bath, Woman drying herself"
When I extend my arm to reach for the towel
when my feet leave wet prints on the mauve mat
and the lavender scented steam lingers
then I hear your voice
in the velveted notes of a horn
Your skin contains your body...
How does your skin feel at the touch of the air
that makes rivulets shiver
down your belly
do they remind you my kisses...
How do your feet feel at the touch of the satin slippers
restless toes pause under fingertips
How does your skin feel at the touch of the white bath-towel
strokes at the nape
while you bow your head
chin to chest
then slowly down on sun glowed shoulders
caress your hips
and parted legs
when you sit on the silk stool
bend and gaze at your nipples
ripe berries rubbed by feather fingers
How does your skin feel at the touch of a last drop
diamond set in your navel
Your skin contains your body
Does your skin feel the warmth of my breath
hands and lips drying you wetting you
Let me reach beyond the skin
Let me break within the surface.