The Elements of Touch

I am not interested, I am not interested, I am not. Then intrigue, because it is creeping outside my window, appears and entertains me through the medium of touch. When I am trying my best to put to rest the women that casually lounge on the font porch of my mind; you know, when I politely ask them to leave, they gracefully linger and then loiter on my front lawn for, sometimes, years. Now, when they are finally escaping my thoughts, even as they cross the threshold of the gate, there is one thing that can bring them back: TOUCH. She touches me meditatively and before I can do much about it she’s back on the porch, sipping lemonade, talking weather and politics with the other girls.