Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2010
Magical and inspiring
All my heart lies in the tips of my fingers

The memories of where they've been
The hearts they've traced
The skins they've ached to dance against

The language in which they speak
A language in which they are fluent
A language that is foreign and ever adaptive

So much sensory intake
So much motor output
All in the most neglected place

Finger tips left neglected
For actions of rushed intentions

All that is needed is to hod my hand
All that is wanted is a warmth
A fire that won't die when the night gets too cold

I don't need the wind through my hair
I don't to be exhausted by emotion
I just need to feel that my heart can still race

I just want a circulatory high
I want something no money can buy
I want the euphoria that no drug can provide
This was written on October 28, 2009.
Written by
Catherine Paige
1.5k
   D Conors
Please log in to view and add comments on poems