Each night our fingers do a dance,
A playful repertoire of digital missives,
Exchanged that love’s grasp might enhance,
And fall together bound submissive.
Caressing your fingers with images,
Passed by night in silent waves,
Proclaiming life as playful solace avenges,
And finding all that each we crave.
When later sleep asserts its feeble grip,
And thoughts flow free of all omission,
Wandering deep into most true longing,
To find dreams that bring them to rendition.
Then there you stand in beauties glory,
Beside me now in a tandem venture,
Creating what should be a tactile story,
To each, together our lives indentured.
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