What a Pleasure

Lift your gaze to where I can meet the fine engravings in your eyes and when I'm satiated, please let me trace the lines of your face for I would like to keep their memory in the tip of my fingers. And will you allow this one more favour? Could the sound of your voice belong in my ear and speak to me, or even whisper? - in any language or none at all, for it makes no difference; I can know everything you want to say from the shape of your lips: a smile, a pout, a grazing bite, a thoughtful parted silence following every gasping wrench of pleasure. And what a pleasure to predict the next increment of a frown or to decipher the flush of a cheek; what better promise that I will know you for the rest of my life, at least in all these constant intimate ways.