I still remember the lingering feeling of your touch.

your face painted in the sun’s prismatic refractions, 

eyes glowing as they lock with mine.

Only in the stillness of our surroundings can I feel you, 

the hushed whispers we exchange as we lay closely, 

spending these moments in the comfort of seclusion.

Clouds slowly parting in the very landscape of my mind, 

instantly painting a scene into thought.

We continue to feel the same warmth in the open, 

our hands no longer hovering away amidst the crowds,

inching closer towards each other in the daylight.

For a moment, they would finally be able to acknowledge,

instead of staring through frosted glass— 

to be seen just as we are. 

Yet your touch always seems to draw me out of my daze 

as we continue to lay in the dark that we had grown accustomed to.

                                                           I still remember the lingering feeling of your touch.

                                                               Those lightweight brushes, gliding to and from—

                                                                                     casted every ounce of frazzle away.

                                                              With each passing moment, it always amazed me,

                                                                                                how pastures turned greener

                                                                                            whenever you were beside me.

                                                                                    Yet dozens of piercing eyes in sight,

                                                                                       my hand, inches away from yours.

                                                                                        I slip a mental scolding to myself,

                                                                             encapsulating my affection towards you,

                                                                                only to lure the wolf out from its pack.

                                                                          The essence of bewilderment subdued me,

                                                                          entangling the string we promised to keep,

                                                                                      disrupting the comfort that we had.

                                                                                              Because the slightest motion, 

                                                                                              could open up Pandora’s Box.