Modern Talking III

Your hands are so sweet

Fingers extending a segment more than they should
Long, gentle, feeling every crevice of my ears
Soaping me down
Like a mother bathing her favourite son
Sweet smelling hamam

And then you caress my face
With those bony fingers of yours
Tracing the jaw line, running through my hair
Under my eyes
Down the knob of my neck to my spine

Holding me close, like a child