Through the earth, I drift
Unbeknownst to me, all but the breeze of the wind and the warmth of light. I feel untouched
My mind wanders in these territories as I try to comprehend this gift
The gift of truth. Falsehoods are illusions, and illusions can not be touched
Please, show your soul and naked body to me. I can not judge nor compare
Let your imperfections reflect the differences between us
As I am not perfect myself, I, too, lay bare
Let us sit here in this sauna and be its truss
Speak to me through contact. Let me feel your hand, your grip, your mettle
Let me wash your feet. Clean them and reveal to me your true feeling
Let me take care of your hair as I brush away tangles of trouble and a flowers' petal
Finally, let me feel your heart against mine with a hug. Let yourself rest and cry as I do my healing
My will, my eyes. My soul, my hands and my feet. Although deaf and blind I may be, I can still sense
My mind is talkative, but I can not hear it. My heart's palpitations are my spokesmen
Through contact, I live. In nakedness, I find closure and recompense
I have eyes in my palms and ears in my soles. Clothe me, and you shall be my spokesman
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. Sooner or later, we all crumble beneath our fears. It's up to us to recall what makes us human and stand strong against adversity. Memories, shattered and scattered throughout our lives, come to us one by one.
