Touch me once again…

I’m listening to Floetry and loving every minute of it and I get to thinking…what is it? what happened to make me close off that part of me? …that part of me…not so much the physical (even though that remains on lock…unlocked) but the emotional, the mental, the spiritual part that welcomes being touched.  I can talk/text/write/blog about any and everything. Politics, religion, relationships, parenting, work/life balances, cars (have you seen the new Kia Optima???); but I just can’t seem to tap into that part of me.  Have I become so tired? afraid? cold?  I need to tap in to that part…

He came to visit me wearing full red: t-shirt and sweats.  I smile because I know he did it on purpose. he knows I absolutely love seeing him in red. He knows it triggers me…touch my sight

He took a sip of Heineken, leaned over and breathed in my face softly, then laughed. I can’t explain it and no other beer/alcoholic beverage does that to me, and I’m not sure if smelling Heineken on another man’s breath would have the same effect…I never tried…but with him…touch my smell

All he had to do was get close to me, stand in my space, allow me to feel his breath on my face…my neck…and it would alert all my sexual senses. Time would pass and I promise, just being that close to him was enough, for me…for him it was simply the beginning…the start of a moment that would last well into the morning. But for me, standing in the middle of a room, or the sidewalk or the grocery store, -it really didn’t matter- but just having him share my space…touch my skin

His voice did it. His laugh. His base. All he had to do was leave me a voicenote of some kind. Just hearing him spiraled me. Hearing my name coming out his mouth sent me traveling…my mind, my thoughts would end up wherever he was and within seconds my day/week/forever was planned with him…he knew what songs I needed when I needed them. He knew how to speak to me through these songs…he knew me enough to…touch my sounds

To have him appreciate my words, my formulas, my analysis. To have him understand and agree with or intelligently debate against my logic. To have him teach me something new,  teach me how to love…him.  show me a different perspective. Understand him. Help me develop my language…touch my words

Touch me. Trigger my senses. Touch me again.  Allow the neurons in my body to dance a new dance…communicate with each other in a new way…speak a new language, a love language.  A language that only you can/will ever understand.  Allow the muscles in my body to relax at the very thought/sight/smell/feel of you.  “It’s just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love

Touch me.




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