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Jaxey Jun 19
space is my addiction
proximity is key
get a little closer
and i'll never
let you leave
don't leave, stay in this proximity with me
Janella Sanchez Oct 2018
Proxemics is the study of proximity and haptics is the study of touch. These are nonverbal languages that tend the garden of our souls. I learned all these in English class and I also learned when out intimate s p a c e s are invaded, we feel threatened except when it’s by people we care about or people we love, see: beloved. Some of the extraordinary fears of contamination OCD is close proximities and worse even, touching. The only cure for fear when it’s occupied your head is avoidance and learning how to be apologetic. ‘Sorry, I can’t hug you.’ ‘Sorry, no touching please.’ ‘Sorry, please step back a little I think I’m about to cry.’ And funniest of all while getting my hair done, ‘Sorry but are you done yet?’ Some would cough and I’m immediately out of the room, or as far away as I could manage. Someone would sniffle within earshot and my sanitizers and disinfectants—yes, plural-- would be out. Someone would seat beside me on a bench and I would get out of the situation immediately. I went for years without touching someone unless I really, really, really needed to, like the eye doctor. But I got better, thank goodness. And when I got better, I let someone hug me for the first time and I couldn’t explain to her the tears that were involuntarily streaming out my **** eyes. Because how do you explain the feeling of rediscovering of having a living, breathing body against yours? Heart against heart, beating in harmony. After that, I got even better—thank you, universe. Then, I could do better. I could lie beside friends on a picnic blanket on park grass, warm bodies full from a day of frolicking; I could let someone sit beside me; I could stay still when someone unconsciously touches my arm or my shoulder; I could let someone hold my hand. How do you articulate the surge of joy and affection that comes with lying side by side with another warm body, or the harmonies of YES! of the mind and heart when holding another’s hand while walking down the streets of a familiar city? A body’s closeness to my own used to drive me to tears and I thought that one touch could end it all. But there is a world to be known between the distance of a body and my own, in the spaces between my fingers occupied by another like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. Or in the hug one tiny person saying, ‘Tita, let’s go to sleep.’ Fear consumes, but we can rise from ashes.
EmpressMi Oct 2017
Why is it so
That we could potentially be labelled as close
Yet be as far as the millions to the sun?
And in the deepest of my thoughts, I would still lay confused in deception.
Truly, it may be coincidence,
That we both cannot define this which is between us.
There is prominent distance and a thin line of assurance
Because of what we believe or rather what we think of us to believe
And it is these small little processes of our minds that wire up for only the worse
And at times I fall into their grasp;
The answers become void.
Then, I fall deeper since sometimes it's harder to not be of complexity.
As I only become free with speech
Not thinking before I speak.
I become wary
Why is it so
That we stray from happiness only to look for it at the end where we've lost the time?
And I wish to ask,
Like this, is it the same for you?
All Rights Reserved. ©
Spaces and proximity
light through sleepless night
years we count
on hopeless time.

Here's a thing i love
to wait---the rain
we could not restraint
that pushed by gravity.

you are my devotion
ready to defend the
no matter how many times
it had destruct.

You can see this love
only once---
Our life overlapped
at one orbit line
i'll be with you
so take my time.

Blind nights
bright stars
i'll be there,
waiting for you
to tell
all too similar things.
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
I do know lip-reading
But that smile
Demands for tactile
I’ve got something on Your lips/(still there) not yet (/let me get it for you)
Stay near,
stay close
the distance is almost
or farther from that.

If we're close
and our souls
are almost far,

it's good that
we are far
but we know,
we're almost par.
Winter Child Apr 2017
You're just as close as my nose bridge
That my eyes can always reach
But my lips can never kiss
for J
Liam C Calhoun Nov 2015

Silliness becomes a later suffering, if only tinkered by potion –


A contractual moment whilst halos best remain hung on the hat rack since devils taste so much better. Bitter but belated, ritual yet related, so to in avoidance, fleeing anything that’d mimic life, “ideal;” perfect being a, “nine-five,” during which, “monkeyed with,” comes to a peak and a valley’s once more, a lack of control. A tailspin wherein one truth can become just a shy more intangible mere seconds later – We can see it, we can smell it and we can almost touch it – so allows the specter, the hand holding drink, and later, permitted, for our nakedness to play once more.


Four more down and a few gin-fueled gestures later, we stumble upon but one edible truth, an apple and, “sin,” repeated thousand-fold – so succumbs you and a parallel I atop our empty and, “precious,” wants carnal. We masticate and learn to destroy the TV – naked, begrudged and bent over the boxes we worship. We annihilate the machines. We profane the dependencies; placation and participation wrought this artificial coercion, once a friend and now an object – a disdain, a thievery, a prison, vicarious and to be avoided by all costs.


Human interaction and fluidic free choice soon become the new, “in,” the primal addiction amongst the bottles of tequila, *****, and plain-old beer. Our grinning, in the flesh and not in pixel, must and will rise like the places we’ve so very poisoned. Here and now, we care. We have to care, because if we don’t, it’s all for nothing. So we top the night twisted, simply breathing, where the smog isn’t seen, but it’s there. We top the night tethered, where the rain doesn’t burn, it believes. And we top the night innocent, and among stars, both in the sky and entangled the heart beating my right,


For the time being, just being, where all seemed right, a little twisted, but wiser nonetheless.
A little long; but a moment I'd never forget.
Mike Essig Apr 2015
Tried it
for 30 years.

Not bad,
but not
for me.

Now I agree with
Katherine Hepburn
who never married:

"I prefer
to live nearby
and visit often."

The simplest
solution so often
the most elegant.
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