Barubaro

“You found me walking on butter roller skates
over the ground at 40 degrees.
You touched me and barefoot I stepped a prairie
At south of some country
I looked the crag at the end of the road
and I covered my eyes to do not see
that you were not jumping alone
I stood there waiting to find
a shortcut that crosses our roads
the day that you walk alone
and remember the moment you were here.
Then I woke up.
But you touched me...
Now I don’t want nothing
but dreaming again.”
― Barubaro

“Touch. It is touch that is the deadliest enemy of chastity, loyalty, monogamy, gentility with its codes and conventions and restraints. By touch we are betrayed and betray others ... an accidental brushing of shoulders or touching of hands ... hands laid on shoulders in a gesture of comfort that lies like a thief, that takes, not gives, that wants, not offers, that awakes, not pacifies. When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact.”
― Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose