Because I do not touch that way

[the_vulture]

In anticipation of ysabetwordsmith 's Poetry Fishbowl concerning alternative sexuality and gender studies, I've written a poem describing one of the key challenges I face as a romantic (and very much touch starved) asexual.

(Yes, I was listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen whilst writing this.)


Because I do not touch that way

Not for me are the sweaty grapplings, concealed in the dark.
I kiss, I touch, with deep embrace, but never reach that mark.
The lesson was so hard to learn, so many hearts did fall,
that, as I do not touch that way, I cannot touch at all.

Kinsey’s X is what I am, and, of us, there should be more,
many with such sexless yearnings that I could so adore.
Yet here I am with none to hold, none near that I recall,
and, since I do not touch that way, I cannot touch at all.

The nearest heart to call my own, a thousand miles away.
With but voices we caress and with only letters play.
But what will become of us, when lonely nights come to call?
For, as we do not touch that way, we cannot touch at all.

There should be more hope and I should have some reason for cheer,
as the call is now raised loud for all the Xs to hear.
Yet, at night with no one to hold, I dread what may befall,
because I do not touch that way, I’ll never touch at all.