Because Instinct Is The Sole Truth Poem by cahen thrips

It's not the loss of love
for I have all the love I need;
when you were here you gave me enough
to feed me through your absence;

it's the lack of intimate touch:
a reach for tousled hair, a wayward curl
back in place with an absent-minded tuck;
here your arm linked in mine, and there

a hand resting on my shoulder;
a finger-tip caress - the sense of you
beside me; soft riffled blown-odour
of your minted breath - all no longer;

true - friends often hug me
but that's mere formality,
a ritual I readily
shrug off - they're not you;

this is what I miss most:
those affectionate touches
you didn't even know you were giving -
I suppose reasons for living.

January 2023