Your hands

I am jealous of roses and jasmines,
of their lingering fragrance in your hands
and of everything you touch and make or do
with your ivory semaphores of love.

Let your fingers spend your heart’s treasure
in prodigal bouts through my hair
and, in closing ranks, run down against
the stubble of my cheeks.

Hold me there, bound by your opiate charm,
until the raging winds of desire bring this hull
of a body to ruin – for ever trapped,
in the barrier reef of your eyes.
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also in "Thanal Online"

Touch me!

I am jealous of roses and jasmines,
Of their lingering fragrance in your hands,
And everything you touch and make or do
With fingers divine and tender.

Touch me, heal me or kill me!
I will love you just the same.

Touch me, for I must melt
In your hands,
As pity melts the mind
To love.

Heal me with a touch to leave me
Stranded, for ever a cast away,
On the raging coasts
Of your eyes, or

Kill me by taking my breath away
As your fingers conduct the orchestra
Of my senses on the podium
Of my naked body.

Touch me, heal me or kill me!
I will love you just the same.