She's holding her hands close
above me, not quite
trusting herself

or me, what it does to me
when I am touched
by love without physical
intimacy, no marriage bond
or familiar friendship
no wound care, no help
in need, but the flow
of the flowing in me
intangible life

There is what exists, I exist
and feel that it is the love
which I mean when I think
of love, the love to be
open from head to toe
the soft warmth
of hands on my body
that cherishes me, I am
not alone