Magic Spell of Touch
Your icy fingers reach up,
breaking the silence
that rises from the eerie depth
of fog,
enveloping us like an ocean.
You touch my hand at first,
sending electric throughout my whole body,
I feel paralyzed,
helpless.
I let your bony fingers rap around mine.
My breath catches,
and it seems as though the fog thickens.
I can no longer see her,
till she kisses me,
slowly,
gradually.
It doesn't matter if I open my eyes,
there's nothing to see.
Your hand breaks away from mine,
I sense it move through the fog,
towards my face.
I brace myself for the smack,
knowing there's no other outcome.
Instead,
I flinch at her touch,
as her fingers gently caress my face.
I am so lost in the moment,
when the fog dissipates,
and I look into her deep brown eyes.
We get up from the hard circlet of dirt,
evidence of past camping trips engulf the area.
We head through the dense Forrest,
No sense of direction,
knowing we're on our way home.
Her hand is in mine the whole way home.
I sneak back into the eerily dark house,
back up the creaky stairs,
into my bland room,
and onto my tiny bed,
thinking not of the kiss,
but those hands,
those masterful fingers,
which played with the strings of my heart,
and left me
with this loneliness
only your touch can fix.
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