Rewind the tape of memory to the first touch Not there. There came later after all the failed attempts to build a stable foundation. . The first touch; no complexion-turmoil of duality colliding in me. the dimensions above time must be a mess. . The first touch must be the contract with this world that might have bought your soul. I’m still actioning mine for little bits of a touch that never felt close enough. . There’s a world splitting us apart in the act of touching. . The touch of before I could know what a body was made of What made the body a body My fingers, my toes, the palm of my hands Which if I put in my face, would cause the weight the weight of existence . The beast spends all his life looking at the outside The outer world is his only reflection of himself . Take the virginity of my skin again, this time No plans or expectations of the can or will of being, Not with the disappointment of the wouldn’t be because it wasn’t Not with the fallacy of tomorrow Not with lust or power . Undo the pristine shell on my skin Only with love outside the dread of gravity
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Beautiful poem. Very intimate.