Touched

My touch soaks in, through your eyes to your mind.
Your hand conveys desires I write.
Self pleasure, self love, inspired by me.
The dreams I commit to the page set free.
Reading you create the scene within.
You and me envisaged in blissful sin.
Sighs of joy you stifle to hide.
Until you can’t til lust lets fly.
My touch now seems oh so real.
It courses to create the glow you feel.
And to think I lie a thousand miles away.
But somehow I still touched your soul today.

An Angel Reincarnate

When angels die, do they fall to earth?
Do they come here for their rebirth?
Do I see before me now,
An angel reincarnate, fallen from a cloud.
When angels die, do they retain the look?
Do they hold the beauty from paradise they took?
Is the vision before me heaven on earth?
An angel reincarnate, for which I’d searched.
When angels die, is the cycle complete?
Do they get more beautiful as this cycle repeats?
Could what I see now ever improve?
An angel reincarnate, an angel like you.