touch

The warmth of another body on a bed seems always welcomed, no matter the warmest of days, no matter that the bed is made for one. The human searches for a connection in another body so different and yet so alike his own. The devil is in the details; the variations in anatomy, the mildness of scent, the intrigue of a foreign object that is dissimilar yet similar to your own. Even the lightest of touch is strange, yet appreciated. Fingertips dancing on small surfaces, fingers grasping and palms enclosing. The fleeting grazing of skin against skin, the tickle of hair on another's cheek. The smallest touches, taken for granted, are the sincerest and are laden with meaning.

These are the ones that create longing.