Love Poem #20

Impersonal, he was
Awkward in his stance
My body, a mission
All I wanted was him to touch me
He kept his distance
Observing me from the edge of the room
Maybe I needed to wrap myself
In latex and rubber
A sterile outline
Instead, my skin was contagious
And if he interacted
If he touched me
An infection would blister across his fingers
And I would seep deep inside
Then he would recognize me as a human being
And not an inanimate object

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