I remember when I touched you that first time, how unbelievably soft your skin was, doeskin or fine silk. and I was surprised when it was warm and I pulled back; you laughed in that throaty laugh that makes me feel like everything is all right with the world jus for now, and you pulled my hand close you you and touched it to your lips.
You weren't there. I didn't understand why at first, then I remembered the sadness that I saw in them, remembered why that pain comes through the eyes of someone who has seen things that they shouldn't have seen so young, and yet as old as time.
And I miss you.
I want to reach out and touch you again, feel that softness, hear your voice silent for so long now, and I dream.
