Oh how I love being held
Next to a warm body
By hands whose fingers
Pluck up and down the
Thin thigh-like strings
Of my taut being…
Sometimes, with my tautness,
Plucking B B-like fingers can make me
Moan sweet and softly, and other times
With Jimmy-like plucking fingers
I can be made to loudly scream
In wild reverberating rhythmic ecstasy…
Now I lie here in cased silence waiting
To be held next to a warm body with
The fingers of its hands strumming me
Releasing ecstatic punctuating sounds
Of the satisfaction of the up and down
Strokes rhythmically caressing my being:-