Touched Starved
It’s like walking through a store
picking out groceries
without a cart
Fumbling feelings by the armful
constantly dropping loose emotions
in the aisles
Searching for ingredients
to a meal I’ve never made
and ill-prepared to handle the burden
of the recipe
It’s like raking leaves
in the eye of a cyclone
Careful not to touch the edges
and be swept away
by chaotic uncertainty
but knowing it’s only a matter of time
before my precarious pile
is blown to bits
by a hungry storm
and its blistering wind
It’s like floating in a spacesuit
in carefree observation
of a universe
slowly swallowing you whole
All the while you smile
hypnotized by the infinite cosmic splendor
only to turn around to share the glare
and remember
you haven’t been tethered to a ship
for a long time
It’s like staring out a window
cracked and drafty
while you watch the arms of outsiders
tie around each other
as if wrapping a present to themselves
All the while in denial
that your pupils are prison bars
without the space to squeeze through
and no matter how hard you stretch
how far you reach
you can never quite touch
the fingertips
of another
.
.
.
