Touch

I often think about tactile pleasures.

I look at the trees lining the mountainsides,

and imagine how they’d feel if I were a giant,

petting them like moss.

I see a moth camouflaged in the tree bark.

If I were as tiny as an ant, I’d revel in the

softness of the scales on its wings, My tiny hands now dusted with sparkling moth “down”.

How would it feel to be a thirsty leafhopper,

finding a clear crystal jewel, nestled in a leaf

suddenly looming in front of me?

Licking the sphere, I’d quickly find it to be water. Smooth, liquid, and satisfying.

Remember to feel with more than your fingertips.