Memory of Skin

My lover asked, "How do you want me to touch you?"

I said, "Touch me as though you are leaving for somewhere far, impossibly far, and you need to memorize every inch of me—the softness of my skin, each curve and hollow of my body."

"Touch me as if you were blind, as if you love me desperately, but you will never see my face."

He touched my face, my chest, my thighs... He learned what I looked like through his hands, building me in his mind while his fingertips discovered the geography of my body.

Overcome, I went on... "Touch me as if your hands were a healer's hands, radiating love's energy with every caress.

"Touch me as if you were alive in me. Let your hunger for happiness drink from the love I carry inside.

"Touch me as if your touch were sustenance, as if your hands fed me, gave me life and joy.

"Let your hands be brushes, so that every part of my body blooms beneath them in luminous, dazzling, blinding color.

"Touch me like a sculptor at the end of his labor, smoothing each surface to restore its gleam.

"Let your hands be fire—burning away everything impure, leaving only the gold of my soul untouched.

"Touch me as if I were your beloved forever."