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