My hand unintentionally strokes the backside of the page
Surprisingly stirred, impressed by impressions
Peaks and valleys strangely familiar to my hand
A fit, inked body at my command

A life's storybook at my fingertips
Insatiably, I read each Braille written chapter
Palm down, fingertips at the ready, eyes closed tightly with heart wide-open

Desperately, I try to hear your whispered narration

My tongue rolls over deep depressions salted by pain
Tenderly I wish and then kiss the remnants away
Lips lovingly brush over crowning colorful memorials
Suddenly, bliss is interrupted – reality on the way

Ink – dark, sharp, and bitter flows to the tip of my tongue
Overpowering the lingering, sensual sweetness of you
Mind reeling, body aching and mouth tingling as if stung
Eyes open – face pressed against the page…swore it was you

Lost again and yearning to be closer
Just me, my pen, and my page
I'll concede the page is my lover
But, only because you are my page