Shapes

I am a tendon You flex
in the flesh of thought.
Where You lean over me
I become
Your smoothly muscled back.

Of course
You know about my hands
how they are always forming shapes
to hold You
How my mouth
has become
a place for You to dance.

When You move
You turn under me
like satin sheets,
or the suave sleek music
of falling silk .

And did You know
that whenever I speak like this
I know now who
moves these words around?