her fingers love me mostA Poem by m.s.earlyher fingers love me most barely seeking me closely follow i across my clavicles her fingernails continue the night passes the window outside i am a surrendering enclave and witness to her song where she tends sometimes to allow me a verse contributed but not to sing along she insists her fingers conduct lightening from endless eyes upon me still seeking always finding and i in sweet release like blooms in spring opening gradually in high speed video she knows all the time she has me as i never will have her but with smiles as great as my disgrace i linger shamelessly counting the strokes of her seeking fingertips on my clavicles on each electric vertebrae spine things where i forget that i exist and there is nothing more than letting her
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Added on January 23, 2014Last Updated on January 23, 2014 Authorm.s.earlyVAAbout"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..Writing
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