FEED My MIND: Adventure. Learn. Live. Write.
Walk with me, match my stride, ease my energy into yours.
There’s something at play in the design of your form, something at play in the way mine has found yours.
Here. Hold my hand, please. The length of your arm, the way my palm rests against yours, no bend in my wrist, no need to adapt to the bones of our fingers. See how we fit.
My thumb moves over and over yours, back and forth, a tender stroking, sometimes a press- the pad of my finger, just one tiny thumbprint on the vast trail of nerves on your entire surface and you detect it, you pause to try and see through my eyes some detail I am adding to our shared memories. We see together, feel together, in this dance of response.
I didn’t choose your bones, your skin, your hands; they chose mine.
Count on me. Let me fall asleep tracing the lines of my lover.