Heat radiates through the gap separating our bodies... Penetrating and prickling my skin in waves of uninterrupted static through too-thin fabric. The warmth travels unabated as it seeps and spreads from your flesh up into my chest... My body now hot as I try to catch my breath.
I remember those hands... They were works of art. Palms built strong and casually calloused, yet soft in all the right places. And those fingers... Piano fingers. Long, straight, and eloquently narrow. Perfect for strumming strings or meandering atop white keys. Those hands were masterpieces... Meant to be placed upon me.
Like a cookie cutter I will outline your hands... As I delicately trace you with all of my fingers.