Divinity

Lengths of leather nudge the warps and welds of fingertips,

I leave fingerprints pressed in glue

And stitch over them to hide the marks.

Can’t help but stumble and drop needles,

My hands atremble for you are near.

Blowing fan behind your hourglass form

I’m in a breeze that hugged you first

It whispers your name in my ear and

I can taste the scent of you

On the back of my tongue

I swallow to gulp you down,

Salivating wet my deepest root

Pulses in time with your breathing.

I try to not stare at your hands as you swift them over wood,

Your movements dusting a confetti of sweat beads

I bite my lip I long to lick you clean

Savor the salt of your skin sprinklings of wood dust

The bite of your nails scratching my back

As I lean over to kiss your bare knee

For a taste of you

You burn your nails into me, welcoming me home again

A baptism of sweat

Divinity in the woodshop.