tactile

I like touching.
I think it's a nice idea to trace our lives with our fingertips.
Because truth is, our skin remembers.
And I think our skin has a slightly different memory than the one belonging to our brain. Yes, I know, technically they are all tied to the brain, but you know what I mean.
The skin remembers.
So trace and touch and enjoy the quiet and overwhelming whole-ness of touch.
This doesn't have to be sexual, though of course, that would have its perks.

But no, touching is simple. It's cotton fabrics, or sunny skin, or hot or cold or smooth or whatever, or moss or berries, or water, or sand, or pages of books or holding a pencil, or whatever. I mean, skin gets the point here, but over-all, everything is nice.
Tactile lives are so much richer I think. And sometimes when a whole wintertide has been spent wearing mittens I forget how divine it is to touch.

Tactile.
M.