Monday, July 18

Touch

Happiness.
Dare I claim,
back when we were companions.

Anger.
When you left,
as I rotted in the ground.

Now I know,
my pleasures displeased you.
I should have known.

But you loved me,
didn’t you?
Do not answer.

Quality time.
I craved
for us.

Compassionate words.
Flooding
our conversations.

Acts of service.
My pride gladly
in meeting your needs.

Giving items.
Tokens of thought
I learnt.

Physical touch.
Magic
opened up my heart.

Touch:
my language distorted, abused;
turned me sad and confused.

© Joel Yap

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