to touch

so we walk into his apartment and he
flicks on the light and he
puts his hand on my hip and he
asks
do you want a drink
i don't need another but
that hand
feels so good there
and i
am so
fucking sick
of being by myself
that i say yes
this is the fifth time this month i
have been inside the home of a stranger and tonight
i'm not even particularly horny
i don't have that dick drive that
doitdoitdoitohyes!nowsleep
drive
but tonight
i wanna draw this man so deep inside of me and
cry holy so fuckin loud that
god himself
will come down through his dick and
touch that part of my soul that
at only twenty years old
already needs to be healed
the man
our drinks finished
grabs me and
without another word exchanged
kisses me
the taste of his tongue takes me back
to my first kiss
to the first man
who was the first to make me feel
yes
not oh yes
but yes. yes. this.
who made me feel like i was really
really
connected to something other then
my own chaotic confusing consciousness that
there is good in the world and that some of it
is in me
and in you
and if we can just find some way to connect
to touch
maybe
we can heal each other's broken parts