Two of the many things I love about you- your index and middle fingertips.
Smooth, satin, beings that journey the valley of breasts- to explore inviting, cavernous lips.
Two tiny exciting explorers that glide with stealthy care.
So lightly- so weightless, I scarcely know they are there.
With catlike agility- they stalk across peaks and mounds.
Volcanic eruptions burst forth- shaking earth and heavenly ground.
Sweet and delicious hardly describes their tender, luscious touch.
Soothing aching temples- or tousling wild hair tufts.
Miraculously satin caresses- when gone, are madly missed.
How could something so simple give bad moods an instant lift?
I am almost certain they contain a dose of magic-
A hypnotic, narcotic, that makes me so fanatic.
I miss when they are absent, when they leave with you everyday-
As I count down the minutes when they will come back to frolic and play.
About the Creator
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By Anie Liban6 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
This poem was hypnotic. Loved this line "Two tiny exciting explorers that glide with stealthy care."