Touch

Covered by hair like down
Coarse, fine
A light touch disturbs them
My skin is soft
The feeling pleasure
Delight, sinful.

Here
There
Discontinuous, I
Find my skin by parts
You can judge a hide
Though not what it furs

Tickled, as my hairs move slowly
To some gentle intelligence
Let me discover
What discovers me

Some pleasures
Are best not disturbed
Some
Are best cut
Pleasure clothing darkness

A fly returns
To its state of being
My loss.