Touch
I miss the old world,
how things were,
coffee shops and fancy restaurants,
physically present classes
and soccer and working out – touch.
I miss
going around the city
evening drives,
or to movie shows
or eating and fighting over the bill – touch.
I miss
secret handshakes with my friends,
hugging my family,
and holding hands.
I miss
taking pictures,
dancing by the coast
cooking together
and making memories – touch.
I yearn for a world
we so easily took for granted,
not knowing, not thinking,
it could change so quickly.
I miss
petting dogs or cats,
and not worrying
if they were a vector – touch.
I miss
helping the odd stranger
or the old man
with money or crossing the street – touch.
I grew up on Midas’ tale
and his cursed touch,
and yet,
to me, a touch is,
and has been,
the simplest form of intimacy.
It feels like
heavy hearts
and empty hands
in a world without touch.
Note: This piece originally appeared in Together...Apart, a digital anthology published in December 2020 by HBKU Press addressing the early days of the COVID pandemic.
