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Out of Reach

June 4, 2012
tags: ,

He closed his eyes to feel it,
the hand upon his neck.

Like this, eyes closed,
he felt as though he’d finally opened them
wide enough to see.

He tenses and relaxes all at once,
He breathes hard, and yet hardly breathes.

He reaches back to touch the hand,
to touch it with his fingertips.
“Palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
But he dares not even this.

He reaches slow, making himself wait.
He swallows hard, and close-cut hairs stand up straight.

His fingers meet only these.
The spell, broken by impatience.

She is always out of reach.

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