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Human Touch

Rating: 5.0
I need to be touched and held.
As a human, I need that like
I need oxygen, food, and poetry.
It's not sexual; it has nothing to
do with a relationship, it just has
to be someone I've known for
a long time, and we care about
each other.
I don't want to be accosted or
held by a stranger.
I boxed for a few years, and it
wouldn't bode well for that individual.
This world is brutal, we are dealing
with a pandemic.
Life can be cruel beyond belief.
I need to be touched and held.
I need to feel a heartbeat next to mine.
This life is so fleeting, one minute I'm
five years old burying my goldfish in
the backyard, crying because I don't
understand death and the next
minute,48 years have passed by.
I've buried my Mom and Dad, two
brothers, and over 20 of my
close friends.

When I'm holding someone
and someone is holding me,
I feel alive, and I'm pretty
sure they do too.
As a poet my senses are
on high alert:
touch, taste, smell, etc...
I need to taste the salt from
a gentle kiss on her forehead.
I need to feel the smoothness of
her cheek on my shoulder, as we
watch a movie or talk about
distant memories.
I need to feel her smooth feet when
I rub them after she's had a
tumultuous day at work.
This fucking Coronavirus has
got everyone so afraid of
contact, and I get it.
But if I die as a direct result of
touching or being touched by
someone that I love...
I can think of much worse
ways to go.
Thomas Case
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: humanity,life,touch
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