The Communication of a Touch

Your ankle
Like a tender cheek
Brushes up against me
Quiet
Sleek
Unseen
A blink or lapse
Of existence outside
Of Darwinism
Cold shoulders
Sharp tongues and
Heavy hands
You

Are quite light

A fragrance that
Flumes and weaves about
All the furniture
Moving feet
Molecules that are accumulating

And
I am accumulating
The sense
The awe
That you are following

Nay

Are leading me
By the heart
Outward
Sky bound
Starlight soon

In breath
To keep
Sanity
Bereft
To seize
The moment of
Swirling-ness
I take your hand gently
And give
Kiss
And

You know
And I know
What is to become
Of this.

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