Your Finger…A Stylus


Bodies now resting,

Our smooth satin senses,
Breathing as one.

Shadows slow spreading,
Enrobing our bedroom,
Unable to quench
Our glow yet remaining.

White cotton sheets,
Waves now receding,
Just gentle folds,
A spilling caress.

My left arm extended,
Your nakedness warming,
Draped in my recess,
Bare chest your repose.

Ruby rich lips,
No words were delivered,
Shimmer of moist eyes,
Clear message you gave.

But more to be told,
Your left arm now rises,
Leaving my chest,
Feather floating in space.

Left index finger,
Porcelain perfected,
Assumes full extension,
Directing our world.

Gliding through time,
Adorning this moment,
Fingertip flowing,
Alights on my chest…

Sheer beauty I sense.

An essence,
A tingle,
An elegant presence,

Your glorious energy
Adding to mine.

Left arm slow arcing,
Pulling your finger,
Sparking sensation,
Magnificent smolder,

The match head your finger,
Igniting its journey,
Now tracing,
Now drawing,
Now branding its mark.

A new message written
My heart plainly seeing,
Heat of your nib
Inscribing my flesh.

In this perfect moment,
Post passion,
Now tender,
Our bodies enjoined,
I feel your forever.

So willingly wanted,
Our eloquent epilogue,

Your finger…

A stylus,

Writing our love.


© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

26 thoughts on “Your Finger…A Stylus

  1. Very different Bill. Sho would have thought you could make a stylus so sensuous. I would never have associated the word stylus with sensuality. Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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