My Fingers

A palm coasts along the softness
senses tingle in expectation
soon the hand-craft finds the warmth
and lands

I am right there with each one
in the backs and in the knuckles
I am not my head, I am my hands
on you

There is a rattle, a subtle shake
I think we’ve found our place
There comes a signal, a growl within
I think we’ve found our perfect place

Into, into, within
all around the edges
across the surface
exploring, imploring
they toil on…

I am right there with each one
in the tips, and in the nails
I am not my head, I am my fingers
in you…


Thanks for reading.

Published by

Tom Alexander

"Art is a lie that tells the truth"

10 thoughts on “My Fingers”

      1. It’s fantastic… just please don’t call it what you called it in your own comment to this post, above… I feel it demeans the character(s) of the poem somehow, along with the poem. And honestly the poem is really, truly beautiful. It’s raw and honest and sensual; honest (with compassion and/or sensuality 😏) is the best. imho. ;))

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thanks Lia, and you’re right. I usually just let them be. Glad you enjoyed it. It was very much written from a place of joyous intimate connection and sharing something with someone you love deeply. 🙏🏼 As always, thanks for commenting. I really appreciate any feedback I get!

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Don! I actually really enjoyed taking that photo of my hand yesterday (weirdo alert). I thought it came out quite well for a photo shot on my phone. And yep, so far, so good in the finger department… Thanks for commenting.


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