I listen
The sounds strike drop by drop
Stinging my skin in patterns
Intricate and focused
They blur into brief moments of sensation
Your eyes burn with a brazen love
For the pulses in time
Which stir the air and vanish
Though I too touch you
It is only the outside I reach
I am too solid to pass
The barriers of flesh
Later, your fires flow to fingertips
Which play me as if I too
Were that most womanly of instruments
Written April 1, 1987
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