The atoms that make up
The outermost layer of my skin
Repel yours the least
In some sort of metaphoric nuclear fusion
Though we may not release photons
With each touch
And we're not quite travelling fast enough
To create such an explosive reaction
In a physical sense
It seems that you still turn
my mass
into energy

Where do you go when you stare?
Am I there?
What are you looking at?
Is it me?
Why are your eyes vacant,
and your mind so full?
Do you remember?
Do you want to remember?
Are you in the past?
Are you in the present?
Are you remembering?
Are you forgetting?
Remembering running, walking, playing.
Remembering loving, singing and dancing in the rain?
What are you looking at when you stare?
I can't answer I'm not there.