Photo by Mike Flemming copyright Let your lips meet gently, 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 heart beat quietly,slowly as the blood circulates carrying its music, a river, following the path of least resistance. How the blood vessels receive willingly this flow, touching 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.