SWITCHING HANDS

The night
has enveloped me
my body
has searched for
the comfort spot
that will
lull me into sleep.
THOUGHTS
on you deny
sleep to enter.
Thoughts of you
add continual
fuel to my lusting soul.
The rise is inevitable,
with a mind of its
own it throbs, aches,
and cries from hunger.
I pamper, rub, jerk,
squeeze, and switch from
hand-to-hand...
and the morning
sun arrives and
I must change the
sheets...maybe I
shouldn't have switches hands.
What do YOU think?