Property

Soft fingers slide inside
They wear a velvet glove.
Then they leave to wander
Naked around this property
Of mine.

Do we ever know the point
Of fingers?
Call me on my estate number
When my fingers become your thumbs.



Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 490 times
Written on 2008-12-04 at 02:30

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Kathy Lockhart
at least I hope we will still have thumbs and a brain.
2008-12-04