>Touchy-Feely

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There is touch

In the collision of eyes in a crowded room

In the unfurling orchestra of taste on a hungry tongue

In the meeting of minds in a desert of thought

In the pen’s kiss of paper prodded in previous disappointment

In the ear’s dance to words that deign to prove true

In the fortuitous brushing of hands headed elsewhere.

There is a quiet contentment

There is a wild ecstasy

Cradled in touch,

Fumbling too quickly to feeling.

It may be for the sake of that moment and that moment only,

But it’s been.