My Incomplete Touch Poem by Dorothea Gift Of God

I've held him 300 times in my mind
but I never left a single imprint on his flesh.
I wonder if the smell of my flesh might introduce him to me, or will he throw up at the introduction of me.
I find myself at more than once, watching him searching throw the mist of my mind hoping I run into him.
He's more than just another love song or a chapter in a book.
He's my hope for tomorrow my song for today my evening glory.
But the thoughts in my heart have never reached the surface of his eyebrow.
He might not never know that I'm persistent in being the unknown fragrance on his shelf.
There might be a madness to my love distress, maybe I'm crazy or a lusted fool, who can't let go of the beat.
He's a drum to my rescue a heart of the beast a feast that I've yearned for and the meat caught between my teeth.
The soul of a complete stranger.