Tactile Ghazal

Locked down with family, I’m blessed with touch.
People-heavy days, pets give the best touch.

One ivy vine spread to swallow the hedges.
Glances and flirty words progressed to touch.

The blind, bony cat still snuggles, purrs. His
mind ruined, my grandfather regressed, touch

the only language he remembered. Six
young kids – the mother craves a rest from touch.

When the vet trembles, his wife knows to lift
his shirt. Her hands warm, each scar caressed – touch

brings him home. A hand-squeeze, a hug, a back
massage comfort. But – slap, rape, incest – touch

also brings infinite shades of pain. K
was never exposed, never confessed. Touch

he may have long-forgotten marks her still.
Silk glove, diamond ring – What’s the best-dressed touch?

Holmes loves Moriarty more than Watson.
Does a heart beat in an angel’s chest? Touch-

a toucha toucha, half-dressed Janet sings.
Frankie’s creature acts at her behest – Touch

me. In lucky beds, lips fat from kissing,
crotches sore, red marks where fingers pressed – touch-

satiated lovers drift toward dream. Posed
in a canoe in winter, hair messed, touch

of blush, the model pretends the camera
is a hand. Lets herself be undressed, touch

of scorn in her smile. The nerdy guy wowed
beauties with his fingers. Impressed with touch.

Pre-Covid, Alison approached each dog
she saw, would cross the street to request touch.