Suspiciously Like Touch

Some energies move without limits.

He moved first,

or maybe she did.

It blurred.

**

Their energies didn’t meet.

They circled.

They grazed.

Testing the edges,

restraint.

**

Before slowly

sliding up against

each other.

**

It happened

the way condensation does:

silently,

inevitably

when warmth meets something cool

and can’t help but reveal itself.

**

She traced him

without hands,

found the soft places

he pretended don’t exist,

and stayed there

just long enough

to make him aware of them.

**

He felt it,

that almost-contact,

that suspended second

before touch becomes undeniable.

**

He shifted,

curved,

met her halfway

in a language

that didn’t need bodies

to feel physical.

**

And suddenly

there was this rhythm,

not seen,

not spoken,

but felt

in the space between them.

**

He pressed without pressing.

She gave without moving.

**

His awareness

brushed against hers

each time closer,

each time slower,

like they were learning

how far they could go

without breaking the illusion

that nothing was happening.

**

But something was.

**

Something that felt

suspiciously like touch.

**

Like pressure.

**

Like being known

in a way

that didn’t require

being held.

**

And that was the danger,

**

because bodies have limits.

**

But this…

**

this didn’t.