people crave touches,
and i thought they were absolutely psychotic
until i met you.
suddenly, i understand,
but still not really
because the only touch i want from you
isn't a kiss or a caress.
it's the sting of your hand on top of mine
sitting on a pile of worn playing cards
(two jacks, to be exact)
making a resounding smack against the table
that startles the elderly couple next to us
and your firm, determined grip
as you swear bitterly under your breath
to wrestle those jacks away from me
however long it takes you.
--glacier