Touch

I seek your skin

and crave your lips

My blood rages, surges

With all the heat of the galaxies,

I burn this lamp of desolate wait

Empty space reaches out to emptiness

Aren't we after all,

Bundles of atoms?

Large spaces of

almost nothingness?

And yet, skin seeks

Smoothness of your skin.

Hand reaches out to hand.

Surely,

What is touched is not just flesh?