Love Hurts(edit)

[TranquillityBase]

You come to me with a voice and a body, wanting.
I reach for you willing, offering.
 
You stay at finger tip’s distance, watching.
We’ve had this conversation before.                  This line feels odd to me.  I'd rather read how you responded to the "fingertip distance", the "watching".
 
You make eye contact.  I am not sure
what has changed.  Now you allow
 
my touch, all your places caressed; body
humming, eyes slitted in pleasure.
 
I feel the thrill of loving, not knowing             "thrill of loving" seems cliche to me.  Is it really only a thrill?  Isn't our greatest hope, not to be alone, involved?  
when sharp things might come.

The poem leads nicely (my two objections aside) to a very powerful last line.

TqB