Touch

Every touch feels like the moment
before a song starts.
The buzz of blades churning breeze
against hot skin.
Distant bees spreading life
amongst the soiled ground.
Our exhalations mix with inhalations
never truly knowing whom.
We whisper the sweetness of a language
no one but us can speak.
We let the subtle syllables slip fall from our lips
as our hearts meet here.
We find our home.


13 lines