Touch

We all need to be touched. It feels good to be touched. I remeber the hugs my grandpa used to give me. He would wrap his huge arms around my little body and pull me into his happy old man belly and squeeze until we were both lost for air. When the hug was over we would gulp in air with open mouths and smiles. I miss my grandfathers hugs.

Or those hardy handshakes from old friends that last for minutes with out stopping.

When i hug my grandma i bend way down and gently imbrace her, carefull not break her in half. then comes the kisses on the cheeks.

And dancing. Standing close...so close and rocking back and forth--together. Laying my head on top of hers, while her face is snug against my chest.

Or like tonight, in the cold of a winter night, with the moon shinning in the fog, after friends share a friendly moment and share a hoakie but heartfelt group hug.

Peting my cat.

Accidentally bumping into a girl you have been waiting so long to touch on purpose but never had the courage.

Wrestling with friends...