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Image for the poem My Fingers on Your Skin

My Fingers on Your Skin

Underneath a blanket
our hands a busy hive,
I touched your body freely
and made it feel alive.

From stems all smooth
and muscled
to hips and lips
and thighs,
no need for light
when finger tips
work way
more deep
than eyes.

To touch the depth
of humanness
and open every door
is just the start
of where I'd go
much more
I know
if I with you
could freely
open bore.

To hold and taste
and incubate
a subtle feeling groove
would more than make
my mind grow straight
when sleeve fits glove
in tube.

But  more than simply
being in
your sanctum
debonair,
to be with you
inside your head
a bed of being fair.

A touch
of hands and lips
and my homunculus
would deeply love
that simple touch
of simply being us.

runningturtle87
Written by runningturtle87
Published
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