Reaching For Mckuen Poem by Susan Lacovara

I wanted your hand to hold mine
The way a poet clutches a pen
An artist gripping his brush
Maestro fingering his baton

I wanted the conductive energy to flow
Lifeblood pulsing through veins
Palm, warm and welcoming
Fingertips igniting a brilliant blaze of flame

Feeling your skin feed mine
An exchange of beautiful unspoken conversation
Where words are useless
Almost obnoxious
The silence need not be invaded
By anything
Other than touch