Whee, de la poésie encore !

My simple touch, even accidental, drives you away.
It makes me disgusting, worthless, vile.

I see around your finger, my ring,
which you wear steadfastly;
an ever-powerful symbol of hypocrisy unbroken.
One that implies love without touch,
caring without conversation,
and worry without action.

Show me that you care for me,
put your arm around me from
time to time
instead of being driven away by the caress of my fingertips.

Be my friend.
Hold me, wrap me up.
Unfold me, I am small
and needy. Warm me up
and breathe me.

~ par jermousseau le 16 mars, 2008.