the top one resting against the lower
touching with tenderness
your own skin to skin.
Forefinger propped on chin,
I let the others dangle,
like leaves on a branch;
how softly gravity tugs them downwards.
Let the  heart beat quietly,slowly
as the blood circulates carrying its music ,
a river,following  te path of least resistance.
How the blood vessels receive willingly this flow,
touchin it kindly as with tiny open fingers
helping and being helped.
How the hair on the head floats
on the breeze,like tentacles of an octopus
waving goodbye.
Top eyelid loves the lower one;
as we blink they touch
like lovers kissing swiftly
behind a tree.
and how  the light comes in
we see a world.
Mine may not be yours,
but the blink of my eyelid
sends waves  through the air,
so we’re all  touching and being touched,
lips kissing each other,
kiss all living creatures
skin to skin
air to air.
And inside us,the rich darkness
of creative night
transforms in turn
these touches
into dreams.