Literature
Stress
I sit and touch flower petals,
But my human shell can only feel so much—
I want to lie amongst their leaves
And sink into their roots.
I say I want to feel him when we’re back to back,
But I don’t mean with my flesh against his—
I want to lie inside his chest and feel content
Listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat—
Want to feel what he feels with his fingertips, underfoot;
The growth of him: hair, skin and nail.
But mostly I think I want to feel his palm reach out to touch me,
And find nothing there at all.