Sometimes I Get It Right [Poem] by Marc Carver

As I walk around the town centre
I wonder what it would be like to touch someone
to hold someone, preferably a woman.
Just to be close to something.
After a while I start to imagine I am touching the woman who is walking in front of me.
I slowly walk behind her imagining I have my hands around her.
She walks one way then another
she must feel the touch from inside my head.
She stops and lets me pass
then walks off in the other direction.

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