My Fingers

She was a girl of the miraculous blackness,
who did not understand
the little extensions on her hands,
Like little antennas
gave her a world anew,
and of course it blew,
her mind;
In her dark world,
Colorful,
Filled with sunset bursts,
and giving her early morning dewy lusts,
she could taste, feel, see, smell;
In her dark world,
Bright,
all she ever knew
was just to mention but a few;
the wrong or the right,
the cause of her plight?
the short or the tall,
but was that all?
In her dark world,
Amazing,
Nonetheless,
All seemed like sweet nothingness,
her realm,
she soaked it all,
the bright darkness,
It was.....

My fingers,
My fingers,
Could it be what I feel,
that I see you,
with my fingers,
my fingers.

Like the smell of the peachy sunset,
the hues of the fresh morning dew,
Or the whispers of the spring outlet,
and the unforgivable listed few,
Like the colors of the evening breeze,
In my dark world,
the wonders never seize;
Or better yet,
the contours on your face,
from your temple to your jaw brace;
Your smooth beard curls,
......smooth as pearls,
Your lips on sensuous sips,
Is it you that I feel?
Or do I have to go an extra mile?
My fingers make it all real,
Therefore there's no need for appeal,
Don't knot my emotions in a foolish pile,
It's......

My fingers,
My fingers,
Could it be what I feel,
that I see you,
with my fingers,
my fingers.

On the airy strings,
seems to bring,
a sweet melody;
On the keys,
its like a breeze,
spelling out peaches and cream;
Sweet, saucy, mellow green,
strumming away the sorrows of the deep,
deep within,
Oh, that's it!

...my fingers, my fingers;

at the edge of my hand,
now I understand,
with that which I see you,
....I feel you....
to nothingness,
Nonetheless,
It's my sweet bright darkness,
It's....

My fingers,
My fingers,
Could it be what I feel,
that I see you,
with my fingers,
.........my fingers.