my one and only fantasy

I yearn to walk my fingertips  
down your candy-coated visage
massage every wrinkle and line
and savor you with a bottle of wine
 
and so, under a canopy of shiny lights
we lay on the grassy blades of the hillside
tightly embraced in ecstasy
inside my one and only fantasy
 
time is a delicacy
moments are consumed at a sedated pace
assimilating your sculpted perfection delicately
alike white gloves that handle the world methodically
 
we now share the luminous flow  
of your razored half moon's glow
autonomously, my left index floats free
with a mind of its own to chart the unknown
 
the journey begins a curious touch
around baby blues without a rush
like a child on the playground with shiny toys  
deciding what to ride, what goes aside
 
tenderly with patience
ten extensions on my hands stroll
from your eyes of mystique
to the dimples centered on sculpted cheeks
 
time is at my will and stands still
on every freckle scattered in maze
to savor every possible moment
admiring your tender sweet face
 
gentle, deliberate digits massage the tiny erosions  
caused by red eyes flowing emotions
but now, my finger-woven steps of devotion
print out that old corrosion  
 
forbearingly, intimately  
tips then drift downwards on your profile
and read your baby soft skin
like an exotic tale printed in braille
 
patiently, deciphering your language
my hands reach the end of perfection
cascade off your chin and parachute
into a bottomless oblivion
 
then, reality begins as my fantasy  
rears its ugly head as a fallacy
by then, a decemvirs of digits  
would've reached perfection pinnacle
 
before squirming with the death throes  
of being thorn from God's embrace
 
Luiz D. Sypher
 
©2021