Touch Me.

I wonder how many people's skin has touched mine. When you are born, right from the birth canal, you are caught, rubber glove to skin and then your mother holds you, skin to skin and the barrier is broken. You've been touched. Then for the rest of your life it is your prerogative to decide who, when, why someone touches you. Or is it? And when it stops being your prerogative does the novelty of touch just die?

There are all kinds of touch, the kind that feels comfortable, the kind that feels exciting, the kind that hurts, the kind that is dangerous.

I wonder what kind of touch has changed me more.