Sensory deprivation

SENSORY DEPRIVATION Something is missing, there is a yearning within, Need for a touch, gentle hands. Sensory deprivation is gnawing away, Everyone needs this comfort, every day. If a baby is not held, snuggled up close, The adult may be cold and withdrawn. A cute little puppy, who loses his mum, Will howl, be miserable, forlorn. The most basic of needs, to be held, and to hold, Indisputable facts bear this out. So hold me a moment, I’m not really bold, I know what sensory deprivation is about. Climb into a tub, turn the jets on so low, Smell the bubbles that caress skin so soft. Soft swansdown feathers touch this body, so warm, To imagine your hands, wont do any harm. Stand in front of the mirror, a long piece of silk, Drape it loosely around this body so fair. Slide it over this skin, feel the luxury divine, Dreaming of hands roaming there. How can one compare, if reality is not there? Vision needs you here, before these sad eyes. Hearing demands, your soft velvet voice, Taste knows that your lips, will be no surprise. The touch of your skin, against mine will be, The song of the clouds, embracing moon, Sensory deprivation will fly on a wing, You know, it can’t happen, too soon Written December 23rd, 2001 © on Dec 23 2001 02:38 PM PST, Patricia Rosenberg   0 • 8