Eros et Manus

[miyako73]

Born in spring,
I knew the texture
Of lilies;
The sharp edges
The stems,
The rough,
The smooth surfaces,
My hands felt them all.

The season before,
They quivered
To shake
What was warm,
To cool off the feverish;
I existed,
I survived
Between temperatures.

The hottest of all
Unrobed my coverings,
Pulled the dangling satin,
Tore the gartered silk,
The softest cotton,
Before the nails scratched,
The fingers held
The sweating flesh.