Please Touch Me
The aloneness was deep and rooted.
And in his company, still, she floated in the vastness of empty space.
She heard his voice as if from far away, as from a receiver, through which she would never be touched by the vibrations of his vocal chords.
She mouthed the words and heard them playing far away.
Floating or sinking? It is hard to tell in this blackness.
Such a longing for something to rip open this space suit...
Even if the vacuum extinguished her immediately,
for a moment she would experience something touching her.
And that would be enough, and that would feel like eternity.
Like love closing in,
crushing in,
in its destructive ecstasy.
Contact.
What an illusion.
The pressure, the warmth, the tingling and oneness...
Yet our atoms never really touch.
No matter how close I get to you, there is space still.
Infinitesimal, yet uncrossable.
I am unreachable, untouchable.
So are you.
How voiding.
Please, please, touch me.
