Touch Me

April 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

Touch me, but hide your face

Touch me, but first close my eyes

I want a body there. I want someone pressed up against me, there, with their hands first here, than here. I want the ecstasies of my soul to find release. It clambers to be free, whispers to me, my soul. It vibrates, shakes in the unspeakable palces and when it does shame creeps into my heart.

Don’t feel that way, you are not meant to. There you have been hurt. The hate will come, and the pain, and the edge of the bathroom tub.

Don’t, do.

Touch.

To give myself over, to pleasure, and joy, heaviness and sadness is to destroy the stable foundation. Stay firmly on the rock, even when waves lap playfully and try to pull you into the current, into the wet, into the wonderful. The water can refreshen, make alive. It can destroy, eat alive.

Stay, stay on the rock. Cling to the rock.

Dip a toe in the water.

And cling.

Help, I yell to You, to anyone. This is the part of the game I can’t understand. Do I lay with you, or lay alone. Because if you touch me, I will die from bliss. Because if you touch me, I will die.

I am alone on the rock, surrounded by the water of life, and soon I will have to swim, swim or drown.

I cannot cry, because I will only add to the mounting waves, strengthen their power, and they will lash more forcefully against the rock, back and forth, back and forth, breathe and crash, breathe with me, breathe, breathe, push in, push out and yes, just like that…

No.

Yes.

Cold fingers on my hips.

No no no no no. I said no. I’m going home. I told you no. Please.

Standing in the shower, eyes glazed over. I will not look at myself.

Different fingers, fingers on my hips. Warm.

Touch me, touch me. Please. All I want. All I ever want. Set me free, free from myself, free from the prison of the past, the prison of my body.

I am wounded, and your touch will be my heal.

Kiss in the secret places and I will not fade out, I will be here, and we shall breathe and I will not close my eyes tight and whisper prayers to God in my mind.

I am clinging to the rock but my feet are in the water and I am crying, sobbing, but the tears are words: Touch Me.

The waves are pressing there, and there, and the water is in my eyes, burning my throat, seeping into my skin. I am drowning in the touch.

And I am in ecstasy. 

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