Darkness of the Well

When we touch
this is a way

of "knowing"-

the soft hair
of speaking,

the rugged skin
of worry,

fine granules
of desire,

sharp needles
of despair.

To "feel"
is to return

to our body-
a mollusk

to its handmade
shell; our fingers

groping blindly
in the darkness

of a man-made well.

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