Physical contact is a language. One of the most beautiful things in life is to experience touching another person and being touched, everywhere. It’s the how, again. How they learned how to touch, how they like to be touched. It’s precious. Simple brushes on arms and legs, making a nest in his chest, in her hair. I never thought I would experience this before I died but am so blessed enough to have. Thoughts bring shivers down my spine. I only hunger for more, each day. That’s the problem.