Fingers continue to whisper.
Fingers linger longer
and these strokes serve as
exercise to make them stronger.  

Practice makes perfect and when
practicing on a perfect canvas leads to
writing beautiful verses in cursive.

Before we fall asleep she kisses every
finger as a beautiful gesture to assure
that, these same fingers reproduce the
familiar and extravagant pleasure.

Fingers speak in a language I can't
comprehend, but only her body can
understand and if these same fingers
that squeeze this pencil tip are guilty of
letting her relish moans and sighs
gasping for air, then accept my
apologies for getting the public involved
in my affairs.

Fingers continue to whisper as they
speak softly to the goosebumps present
on her body. Fingers continue to
whisper, and without my muse these
urges to write I keep I fighting. Fingers
continue to whisper telling me to keep
writing.