May 8, 2006

• "Simply"
  by Mark Haggarty

  Can you and I always be touching?
  I mean, even times when we're
  Buried in the couch and
  Reading separate books, totally engrossed.
  Can we remain yet in contact
  Somehow, like our legs slowly rubbing
  Up against one another's
  And our toes can be touching?

  And when we sit and smile someday
  In green vinyl lawn chairs
  At the beach, wearing UV-blocking sunglasses,
  Deaf to the monotonous ocean crashing,
  Our hands, you know, might start digging
  Through the sand and tunnel together,
  One last give and we'll break through.
  We could be touching, then.
  Keep your hand there, OK?

  No thought makes me happier
  Than sandy fingers clasping in the cool damp.

  • 2:53 am
  • 1 Comment