The Distance Of Satisfaction Poem by Alicya Trevor

There are the hands that touch mine
and the ones I long to touch

There are the kisses that brush my lips
and yet the ones I do not feel
make my lips tingle

The care emanating from a soft embrace is shielded
so well
as the warmth returned
is a false security

This feeling is not right
the smells so unfamiliar
hands like sandpaper
kisses taste like sawdust
and embraces are dry

Feeling as though
they are knives
revealing the hurt
I continue to sow and endure