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Amanda L. Jones

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Member Since: Aug, 2009

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Touch
by Amanda L. Jones

Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Amanda L. Jones
•  Forward
•  By the Starlight
•  Vampire
•  Gravitation
•  Sleep, my Beloved
           >> View all 17

It's all about the senses. This is the sense of touch: how acutely my body responds to the smallest, lingering touch. Like someone grabbing your hand, for instance.

"Her" is his true lover; the guide (he) is mine.

 

 

I could feel the electricity
through my jacket sleeve,
as I pressed my clothed hand into his,
letting this guide pull me along
to wherever he might wish.

The reluctance to drop his hand was unbearable,
but he made the first motion.

I remember my thoughts
spinning, unsure,
when he reached out to me
Come now, he said,
and I marveled at his porcelain skin
before laying my hand in his
and following him after her.

Such a simple,
minute action
should not send me into such a hyperly aware,
smiling state.
But it did.
It was forbidden,
yet still I craved it.

 

 

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Reviewed by Edwin Hurdle 8/5/2009
You are a talented writer.Keep up the great work :-)



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