Touch Point

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By Not Telling



Giggling together, talking with this deep knowing, a new intimacy like a dance in space, joy in mutual influence, heavenly bodies not touching yet so involved, heavenly

On a point of concentration our energies converge and one of us emerges transformed like some cliche butterfly new and beautiful

Something in our mix, like nitrogen and glycerin, energy there in synergy, power

Precious beyond anything this nameless relationship, wrapt, wrapped in you, warmed to the soul

You and I could change the world I swear, laughing like children with a toy

Someday soon we will sit and gaze into each others' eyes and know

Exactly who is there

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poetlorraine profile image

poetlorraine  says:
2 months ago

mmmmmmmmmmm hopefully

I*n*v*i*c*t*u*s profile image

I*n*v*i*c*t*u*s  says:
2 months ago

>>>>>>>>>>>Ahhhhh...think stand over here! :)

cindyleedavis profile image

cindyleedavis  says:
2 months ago

What is it that caused you to write this poem?

If fills me up, thinking about the joy of love and intimacy with God.

Not Telling profile image

Not Telling  says:
2 months ago

I was mentoring another poet and felt a deep affinity. Thank you for asking, Cindy. :)

What do they say? Whenever two or more of you are gathered... ?

poetlorraine profile image

poetlorraine  says:
2 months ago

There i will be also, i think

Am I dead, yet? profile image

Am I dead, yet?  says:
2 months ago

NT it sounds as if you are creating a meeting place for you and your desire to enjoy those precious moment in person--nice poem, NT as always.

Not Telling profile image

Not Telling  says:
2 months ago

Not a 'place' exactly, Am I dead, yet. :) Thank you

philip carey 61 profile image

philip carey 61  says:
2 months ago

The drive to capture the essence of that experience is an ache and a torment. This one comes closer than many others. I felt it--especially the last two lines.

Miss Take profile image

Miss Take  says:
2 months ago

lets change the world

poetlorraine profile image

poetlorraine  says:
6 weeks ago

the last two lines, the last two lines, will they ever be the first two lines of a new poem

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