Finger Prints

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Finger Prints

         

           Left on me that’s what you do 
                  they're there left by you 
                      I can't see them
    yet feel them so softly against my skin 
                like memories to a mind,
                     like taste to wine 
                    that’s what you do,
                  that’s what you brew 
                 inside me left by you, 
                         always there 
           the feeling of your prints of love,
                    and lust never gone.

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Yasaman’s Poems (2)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Happiness 1
Finger Prints 0