Touch…

lhelping-hand

Adrian spends his days examining things

He walks soundlessly across the carpet

His bare feet delighting in the texture

He runs his fingers across surfaces

His head faces down

His eyes cast about

He perceives dimension through touch

He absorbs emotion through silent observation

He shows love by holding hands

Adrian is tactile

He is barely sixty

Tall and slim

Handsome face

He wanders from room to room, measuring, observing

Adrian puts shoes in the waste paper basket

He uses his toes to pull old tissues from the bin

He catches my nine year old son’s paper plane

His fingers explore the folds, his eyes taking in the design

He enjoys the crunching sound of paper crushing in his palms

He doesn’t notice my son’s tears.

Adrian is Prue’s friend

He stands behind her as she sits on the lounge

Clutching her baby doll to her skinny chest

She holds Adrian’s hand against her face

They find comfort in each other

A quiet moment before they move on

Navigating their lost pathways

Prue lies down on the carpet

When her back will go no further

She screams at the dazed residents

She beckons frightened visitors

Her light blue eyes add madness to her contorted face

Her zig zag teeth are brittle points amid the red gaps

Her white tongue lolls about as she lets out unholy asylum screams

Adrian holds out his hand toward her

He tries to pull her up

She grunts and drools, licking her wet lips

Her crazy eyes fixed on Adrian’s grip

Determined to conquer her frailty

Adrian is told to leave Prue alone

The nurse leads him into the garden

She walks backwards

Their arms outstretched

Toward each other

Hands touching in the middle

Like an eighteenth century dance

He follows her slowly

White feet on soft grass

A shy smile moves across his gentle face

As fleeting as a time lapse video

Capturing subtle changes in afternoon shadows

Before darkness settles in

At night Adrian walks to the new curtains

They smell brand new

They are smooth with a slight texture

The fabric is heavy, like a ball gown

The fabric rustles

It swishes like his wife’s skirt

Adrian is overwhelmed with sensory overload

He gathers an arm load of fabric and pulls it close

He holds the coldness against his cheek

He rests his face within the folds

Breathing in the scent

He begins to sway

The curtain is draped over his shoulder

The weight of fabric falls heavy against his front

He is slow dancing at his wedding

His bride is cheek to cheek with him

He holds her close and thinks about their future

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