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 .
Beautiful poem. Very intimate.