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I wish sometimes I could reach out and touch you, you who are reading these words. I wish I could put my arm around the slope of your neck, to rest my head upon your shoulder, and to sink with you into the moment. I wish I could feel the warmth of your uncomplaining body against mine, and that you could feel my own weight gently against yours, and that we could both treasure, a bit, the sheer wonder of this–the pleasure of not just touch, but of sensitivity to gravity and awareness.

It’s so available, and so easy to forget, and somehow, somehow, it’s so much more beautiful when shared.

One Comment Post a comment
  1. I just reread my “Orality and Intimacy” post — the one about a writer’s desire to reach out to his and her reader, to be one with him and her — and your comments to that post, and now this.

    Wonderful writing, Siona. I hear you, and thank you for reminding me of this.

    September 26, 2009

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