Once you touched me.
I still feel it softly.
In my memory,
This touch on the arm;
Was it just casual?
I’ll always wonder.
It almost spoke out,
As if to say, “Hi,
I see you,” and more,
And I hoped it said
You sort of liked me.
But that touch spoke
No language I knew;
No true translation
Exist for its word.
Though its voice is gone
And made mute by time
I can’t forgot that touch,
And I am longing
For you to touch me.


Adron

(C) 2009 Adron Dozat