My Lovers Back

He runs his hands over me.
Searching.
Probing.
Exploring.
Every cavity, crease and contour.

He searches.
Not as
An old lover,
With tired familiar hands.
But,
Like a child
Who has just received
His first gift
Since the
War and following depression
Ended.

He savour's
Every moment.
Not wanting to miss a thing.
Discovering.
Recording.
Storing.
Every touch.
Every sensation.
To memory.

My lovers back