A Touch Is A Touch Poem by shimon weinroth

feeling, flowing free and fleeting,
floating swimming on waves of neurons
pulsing skipping, somersaulting,
up, down and around resounding

in cogito or incognito, wrapped enveloped
till a drowsy psyche wishes
or willful consciousness
put more meaning

each road a different scenario
rapport by lexis or gesture
clothed the naked feeling
with fine raiment and ornament

Deco, Art Nouveau. or Rococo
tones of Gregorian or jazz
glimmering suns and cotton clouds
silky and diaphanous ethereal transparent

send, evoking embracing the spirit,
ah me, I do run off, what if the
touch was a mere accident a simple
contact of coarse physical, neither

intended nor unintended?