In the quiet of the morning light,
A tender touch begins to weave,
Soft whispers of a gentle might,
Where hearts and dreams both believe.
Through silken threads that softly bind,
A connection deep, eternally pure,
In every gentle touch we find,
A solace that words cannot assure.
Fingers trace stories untold,
In the quiet dance of skin and soul,
A touch that turns the fleeting cold,
Into warmth that makes us whole.
In the embrace of silent grace,
A universe unfolds within,
Each touch a timeless, sacred space,
Where love’s true journey can begin.