You can go through years                                       
                                                                      Years
Like a ghost
Never being touched
Simply passing as an apparition
While still body-bound on earth

You might not even notice
                                                                        That your skin
Has not been caressed
Or brushed up against
Or held in kind with a secure embrace

You may even forget that you have
                                                                       A body
Until one day maybe you are
At a tattoo parlor
And the artist is drilling a needle into your arm

Your mind registers the warmth of your hand
                                                                      Under his armpit
And your eyes fixate on his blue-gloved hand
Holding your arm still
He is touching you

He is touching you with care
He is being careful with you
He does not want to hurt you
He holds your arm still with one hand as his other drills the needle into your arm

And this is the moment you remember
How nice it feels to be touched
And held with care

You are really here
Someone has caught you, stopped you
And even though you asked them to
Your years of abstinence from human contact
Have made you micro-sensitive to even the most basic
                                                                   and even subtly more painful
Forms of human contact

This was a connection
A needle to sew you
Back into your body
Remind you to take chances
Risk your body (more often)
In other (trustworthy) hands

There 
                                                            you may find love
Or
Other forms of acknowledgement
That you exist and are alive
And be reminded
How warm and comforting it feels
to be touched
and touch 
                                                            in kind.