I read once that humans need 8 touches of affection to survive.
My boyfriend raised his eyebrows in disbelief and said,
"I don't think you NEED it, I think you just WANT it."
But I don't know how to tell him,
That the slightest brush of fingertips against mine
Lets me know I'm alive.
The tiniest kiss
Brings life to my hollow bones,
Encouraging the dusty chambers of my heart to beat in a long forgotten rhythm.
I seek out hugs incessantly
For the days I am too tired to hold myself together,
And in those 4 seconds my broken pieces are held in place
For a little while longer.
I hold onto any small, tenuous connection of physical contact
To remind myself that I am loved.
If human instinct is survival,
Then this is it.