Tenuous touch
My hands have felt many things in my lifetime,
the smooth hot sand of the beach,
the cold morning winds,
the warm clay of the earth.
But unlike these things
your flesh is without a concise descriptor.
It is smooth like the most worn rocks,
and soft like the clouds in the sky.
If I close my eyes I can picture the tactile sensation.
The sparks shooting from your skin
across my fingertips is captivating
and shorts my heart.
Even now it is motionless
and without the right charge to ignite it so,
having a key to it
does me no good.
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