When did we stop touching?
Or had we never touched at all?
Had I been born without skin,
without a heart,
without feeling?
Had I been that abhorrent?
What was I lacking?
Or was it you who had fallen short
somewhere in your own life
that faltered in my fate
before you even knew me?
If I reached out now
what would you do?
Would you handle my touch,
my kiss, my forgiveness?
Would I even care?
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