Touching

IF I CLOSE MY EYES.
I CAN FEEL YOUR BREATH ON MY CHEST.
ONLY TO OPEN MY EYES AND FEEL ONLY THE WARM BREEZE BLOWING THRU THE WINDOW.
TOUCHING BUT NOT ALWAYS TOUCHED
IF I CLOSE MY EYES.
I CAN FEEL THE SOFTNESS OF YOUR SKIN IN MY HANDS.
AS I ATTEMPT TO MASSAGE THE PAINS OF YOUR DAY FROM YOUR BODY.
ONLY TO OPEN MY EYES AND SEE A EMPTY PAIR OF HANDS.
TOUCHING BUT NOT ALWAYS TOUCHED
WHEN I SLEEP I CAN FEEL THE FAMILIAR RHYTHM OF YOUR BREATHING; WITHIN THE EMBRACE OF MY ARMS.
CONFIRMING THE PROMISE THAT I AM NOT ALONE.
BUT I AWAKE TO FIND ONLY MYSELF.
TOUCHING BUT NOT ALWAYS TOUCHED

by Tony Cox

Comments (1)

Excellent poem. I have something for you You are not aware that I am there receiving every rhythm of your motion of your hands I lay back and relax as you discover this vast land It is more the the breath you feel it is the rhythm of my heart and breath responding in Unison with your heart and breath Your are touched and received. The Softness of my skin is preexposed to Olive Oil and Shea Butter My skin is softer with your hands of friction I really have and addiction Your hands are not empty I hold them sometime They are strong, so warm so muscular. I sense your dominance. Why fight? Do your thing man. Your scent of neutral tells me you are not there But your touching tells me you are.