Sunday, 30 September 2018

My Fingers

My fingers
They tremble at the thought
Of tracing your curves
The contours of your feminity
As they merge
In your forests

My fingers
They yearn to taste
Your musky essence
To bloom you
In leisure

My fingers
They itch to dip
In your moistness
And liberate your being

It will be only my fingers
To gratify, both you and me

©LR






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