A little phenomenon in my life that keeps occurring that I continue to cherish but wait on the edges of devastation to no longer be true is how blessed and lucky I am to have my arm being held.
It is my sensation of dryness. Chalk it up to the combination of being adolescent boy who has grown up entirely under the mainstream paradigm of sole maternal protection and feral being.
A bowling session tonight…
Your hand reached for mine whenever I got a strike or spare. It was nigh on intoxicating at this point. Every time you did it, I caught my breath, silently so as not to let on at my grateful surprise and glee.
It is an earthy hand, a physical makeup that is very embodiment to my stature archetype, with you having the same one. Whenever your hand sought mine, I got the delighted rush of satisfaction of feeling.
What a sweet bliss-- a visceral bliss that grasp the comfort of your embrace.
I hope such hand contact is not just reserved for bowling session. I am eagerly looking forwards the day with you crossing the street facing with the threat of vehicular manslaughter.
The power of the your embrace----C (my personal best score for 2010)
Mutual embrace---------M,C
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