Touched

She liked the way he could trace her, perfectly. She loved how sneaking out the window delivered passion and open doorways. You see, she wanted to find new ways to feel loved. And he never stuttered when he spoke to her so it must be. And together figures made a dance so sacred. As they biked down the streets, owls perched on her crown. She’d arrive, bare and ready to be taken, to be grazed and to soften. To create something otherworldly, to speak only to him. With him she became the moon with the stars as witness. Forever and a day.