a beautiful touch

Tonight I was moved. Tonight I felt something large swell up inside me. This feeling of connectedness. This feeling of joy, and excitement. I realized I had something beautiful.

The human body with it’s great and many uses, powers, and skills, is one of the most beautiful things ever to stumble into exsistence.

With what grace does the hand caress each new ensemble of textures and shapes. How do the eyes tense and relax, quiver and hold, like tiny jelly lexicons of thought. Indeed how eloquently does the mouth form the words and symphony of sounds that we sing throughout our day.

As my hand lay on winslow’s chest, the light catching on all the tiny hairs there, the details of my thumb became less wretched, softer. The cuts and scars and blisters seemed no longer ugly and shamefull but rather as if they belonged, as though the thumb would’nt be near as smooth and charming without them. I hovered my hand over his abdomen and admired how he was so tan and painted by the warmth of the sun, I noted that my hand, being one that doesn’t enjoy the sun, was much paler. The length of my fingers danced over the topography of his upper half. The golden light from the old lamp cast the most perfect shadows over us, my eye was naturally drawn to this marriage of flesh to flesh. Although the differences seemed superbly matched to each other, even though i was content to keep my hand inches above his body, there was an indescribable magic that occured when i touched him. A sweet warmth and welcomeness as my palm met his tummy.

I understand why some people always need to touch. Always need to feel the people around them. The electric connection that I felt, even through the innocent parts that met together, gave me such security and comfort.  I was moved to think we were somehow connected beyond our bodies.

there was once a woman, who was so hurt by the world, so beaten and rejected, that touch was the only thing that let her feel alive. Touching someone gave her hope, she could’nt stop touching people, on the shoulder on the arm the back of the neck, wherever they would allow her to, touch, touch, touch.

It is amazing how that relay from a few nerves can cause such a relief.

Perhaps I am just a romantic girl who has fallen in love with an idea. If this be the truth then let it come to pass. as i have found something that makes me smile to myself in the midst of the world happening around me. 

To touch someone while thinking about the mysteries of the human body, the artwork that it is, is almost like feeling in love.

What stinks most about being single? I miss being allowed to touch.

I want to hold hands. 🙂

kiss the frog!