A Touch
As my hand sinks into the billowy softness,
the heat that engulfs it is almost unbearable.
The feel is silky smooth, but the splits and cuts
on my fingers begin to sting and burn
as if being invaded by an army of fire ants.
It feels slippery, slimy, and a little bit grimy
as my thumb rubs the cuts on my fingertips.
Deeper and deeper into the heat I plunge
my hand. At last I feel the hard, spherical
shape at the bottom. One small jerk and then
like the roar of the river-falls
my dishwater is sucked down the drain.
This is five of six in a
series called Caressing
the Detail.
By ArtisticPoet48
© 2008 ArtisticPoet48
(All rights reserved)
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