My Fingers Walk

My fingers walk your stomach to your breast;
They have no planned direction—they know best.
They skip and hop upon your nipples sweet,
Then dance up to your lips for loving treat.
You kiss them, too, and now I know why they
Don’t need a map to have a happy day!

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s