Touch-Screen
Love and Loathing: A Poem
Sometimes my skin crawls
When certain people come close
I can feel each hair on my arm
Stand on end, one by horrified one
And I think to myself,
She is not even touching me
She is just standing close,
What’s my problem?
But that state of being touched, imminent
Is all the horror
And the disgust
And the hate
And the fear
And I think, I have been seeing this person for years and years
Living together for so many of them
Why can’t I teach myself to stomach it
After so many years?
And logic and reason, those two twin counsellors
Of the conscious state
Try to kick in
And tell me that it is alright:
She is a good person
She means no ill
She loves me.
But even that doesn’t cut any ice
My skin and my blood whisper to me
We love her, too
And we would love her even more
If she stayed away from us
…
I need a screen to stop touch.
