I’ve been thinking a lotabout hand holding,the vulnerability of it,and how it comparesto mushing mouths,grinding bodies,inserting, outserting.
So naturally doesthe moment forkissing introduce itself,the locking of eyes,the slow draw offaces towards one another.
But thenthere is this alien contact,a surprise lashing outof an open hand,grasping for anotheropen hand. “What are you doing!”would not bea shocking reaction.
“I was just havingsuch a nice timeswinging my armsto the sounds of the worldand now this,this prison of flesh.”In all its complexityit’s such a sweet thing,to want to moveto another’s rhythm.
It’s hard not to smileall the while,but that being saidI still wouldn’t be surprisedif I get slapped for it.