Something in my body
badly needs to press itself
into another skin
and it's not even
a lust thing - no, it's like
I need some other pores to breathe with
some other veins to push my blood through
just to be sure
that I'm feeling
live
really, here and me
is fine - in fact,
when I have that, mostly,
I feel how I imagine I should -
but when I'm energised so,
I become a greedy glutton
for repulsive atoms:
I need them all
pressed against me, into me, through me
I'm shelling onto the rocks
or else,
melting beneath the floor
oh yes, I know alone's better
but skin-tight feels so nice
and the idea feels
even nicer
and even nicer on a whim
held in a fleeting moment
those atoms sieving through my lazy hands.
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