Your fingers


Your fingers,
your touch
I want.

So warm,
so soft,
trembling.

On me
my skin
awaits.

They brush,
my pulse
quickens.

My chest,
hollow,
wants more.

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About Cary

I write, more nonfiction than fiction lately, and that's mainly because I started a podcast about the history and culture of Brazil. Reading for that is dominating my reading time too - as you might have guessed. I'm an American expat who lives in southern Brazil. Aside from history, reading and podcasting, I enjoy cooking, hiking and improving my Portuguese. I teach English for a living. View all posts by Cary

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