Touch

The body moved
Through thin air
And grasped for me

The sensation of touch
Is much like
Noise

Replete with memories
Static hairpins
And slow burning pain

    Deep within

Of overexposure
Of a photo flooding with white
Of invisible lens flares
Of unrecognizable objects disappearing from view

-x-

"Take me with you"
He had uttered
Amidst the crowded street
To himself
Drunken nights of languish

The street lights dissolved
Any sense of belonging in the city
He clamped himself like a
Woman covering her breasts
In shame

-x-

"Your dreams don’t mean anything."
"Forget them."

"Let the light flood in."
"Overexpose."