OF THE TOUCHING
(Janine to John, Month Two)
I wish you wouldn’t do that.
I mean, I REALLY wish you’d stop.
Didn’t you tell me – not so long ago –
that the thirteen year old version of you
would high-five Version 2011 You
who has a girl
(like me)
to stop you
from all that sullen man-handling?
Didn’t you say
– not so far back –
that your mother would clasp her hands
and warn you
how to much
of the touching
would leave your hands in hideous
horny positions
and you’d be unable to continue
unless you found a nice girl
a compassionate girl
(like me)
who could take matters in hand?
And haven’t I?
Your crippled horn hands
have yet to calcify
and I say
these last few weeks
I have had some part
of that.
And if you want to continue
to see some small part of me
you will slow down.
Ease up.
STOP
– at least
in my presence.
