touch

Your breath slides silent * across this warm face at night * winter, my cold love

touch : touch not

I reach out to touch, fingers slip into light.

Yet it is not my fingers not my flesh fingers.

Because how could I reach out with them to touch something that is not touchable?

My chest aches, quivers.

Am I sad? Am I happy?

Prickly eyes.

gentle

gentle

gentle

so deeply tender