FINGERS

(a sonnet)      
     
Your sweetest crave aware as we begin,      
We draw the liquid lilt of your desire:     
The grip of slickest silk that’s found within,    
The heat that permeates your depths with fire.    
     
First tips then ripples pull to give us place.    
With stirring lift, you rise to take our all.      
Soon winding move for move increasing pace,      
With joy of streaming love we rise and fall.   
     
With thumb's employ, your feathered pearl impress,     
We curl to find and lift you from your spot.      
A wail arise from our dual caress,  
As muscles writhe and tense with ending sought.      
     
We sense the throb of your coming release,      
Still coaxing wet to know its full increase.