touch touch touch touch touch touch

The glowing ballerina. 
She is holding a light (such as a lantern). 
She dances towards the young girl.  
This is the semen finding the egg.

It's all about the pauses. 

Quiet. Whispering skin, skin as it slides against skin.
As we press blushing flesh into hot dermis.
We slant and lean / side to side. 

Is this dancing? Is this sex?

Your hand at the nexus. At my shoulder. 
Pinked faces. We look down. 
Not ocean, nor kelp, nor jacaranda. 
Your empty bed and a glass of water. 

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