Her Fingers

18 03 2010

She can make me come with one finger
it’s a talent she has, circular and teasing
her fingers connect her to the piano and
the computer and words without end they
connect her to me. They spin in semen.

Her fingers are unmanageable things
like forest fires of flesh and rampant imagination
her nails are chipped where the flames escape
an alphabet intact in each cuticle
her fingers play a rabid tapdance
and seek the conquest of a key.

I know they conquer me
her fingers erect and sprouting roots
as masculine as any organ I have
her fingers are rampant snakes beckoning
bald digits to my passion




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