Catching Breath

"Catching Breath "What makes your pulse race" You asked. "Tell me when your breath catches" You whisper. How do I tell you, It is when unseen, I am known. When, untouched, I am caressed. When something brushes against that chord in my soul and it serenades the same note. Or, one just a third higher or a few notes lower. Making the harmony thrum through my core. I whisper gently without all that I wish to explain, "My soul sings." "Tell me." You urge. I reach deeper, past the shallow edges of my experience into the clear limpid pool of my understanding. "Finding a perfect shell on the beach, that everyone else overlooked." "Witnessing the caress of pure adoration from afar." "Breathing in innocence." "Discovering sweet tentative need for acceptance, from someone otherwise completely capable."   "Being asked. . . " You smile, I haven't explained well no, not well at all, yet your knuckles brush my cheek and you say, "I know." My breath catches. --- Written September 26th, 2001 © on Sep 26 2001 02:42 AM PST   0 • 16