Your Touch

Your Touch

The shivers running up and down my spine
Many goose bumps litter my very flesh
As our two lonely hands touch and enmesh
This is probably not a welcome sign
My mind flashes back to a humble birth
Sweet warm memories at mother’s breast
The opening of a small treasure chest
Pulsing veins throughout me, for what it’s worth
But the shock waves inside my throbbing brain
Tighten the many knots in my dead tongue
Until they declare me fully insane
I’ll continue to feel forever young
Your touch has finally ended my reign
I sit in my cell, waiting to be hung

Petrarchan Sonnet
by
LeBuert  2012