I reach out for your hand

Try and place it in my palm –

I know that your touch is real

I feel it -inside me

Knock three times, and enter

That makes her giggle

Even in the dark, with my eyes scrunched up tight

I can sense you are with me

A little light – one which I will find as long as I continue to let it burn 

It is strange – how anyone else would not be allowed to touch me

My body is mine, my thoughts are mine

I harvest my survival treasures

They feel cool and smooth

I can feel them – perhaps I don’t need to see them 

They are tiny pebbles in my pocket

Just touching them – making them smooth makes me smile –

I can carry something no one else will see.    

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2 responses to “Touch”

  1. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) Avatar

    Your comment reached me, and I can comment on yours….

  2. Melissa Lemay Avatar

    I sense much, both spoken and unspoken, in your poem.

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