vellicate \VEL-i-keyt\, verb:
1. To touch (a body part) lightly so as to excite the surface nerves and cause uneasiness, laughter, or spasmodic movements
My touch caused you all three. But its the uneasiness that worried me the most. The reason for this I guesstimate, is because of the being or presence growing inside you, simmering just under the skin, stretching out its yet not formed shape, and lounging its body as it tries to fill your every space. It's just me.
Its not you in particular that causes this me inside to come alive. Really its our closeness...and when I use 'you' in this insistence I really mean 'me'. I feel myself inside of you. Obviously, this is pure narcissistic on my part, this projecting, but it better than talking to the mirror.
I use the excuse of being instantly distraction by your voice to explain my actions, such as suddenly kissing you. Im becoming more responsive to the sounds around me. More so then I have ever been before. Especially when you whisper.
Kissing.
Is the easiest sound to understand. I kiss you because I want taste your sound and feel our music being created. Its uncontrollable infatuation...And so I do it without a second thought. I lied, I dont really understand it...at all. Why does this thought make me feel so small? Oh well it gives me to room to expand, I guess. But I can definitely go without the contradictions of the human condition.
Potential growth. Us expanding, she and I. I'm smiling as I write this. Brief memories we have already made. Together. When you are near me. Strange but not unusual, new and frightening things happen. I am given cool rain instead of firey passions. The grass. Tears of glorious frustration. Bridges on horses and music in the benches. My chest already ache, just a tiny bit because she is already missed.
While...
Between A and Z words are at war with each other. Thrown around black cannons, and little figures waiting for their turn to give speeches are picked off one by one. Blood splatters the ground poets march their rhythms on. And English linguistic and grammatical terms containing explanations for useless art comes up missing in all the organized chaos.
But after the plans for victory are accomplished I should take you by the hand. Vellicating your palm with my fingers, while waving to the crowd as they chant our names. The masses are dead, as heavy be the heads that wears the crowns.