I feel I must admit,
They're far more striking when I'm up close;
Perhaps it's how they catch my eyes,
Off guard,
With they're naughty-nifty,
Skin-clutching
Sinew-wrapped phalanges.
Adroit when they stroke my own,
Boiling my blood.
 
Perhaps I am the only one who sees,
Silhouettes; 
Vicariously sculpting,
Shifting e'er those digits,
That dextrous crack,
With a yelp 'r a moan an' a purr perchance.
 
But I know it isn't fair if I am;
That is to say,
With such pretty pointers:
How 'r who am I to deny,
Another,
Just a gaze or a graze,
For I can say with out a doubt,
To you 'twill deft amaze.