When others retire coyly to their rooms,

And someone comes to mine

To read some poems to me,

I make room for him, or her,

To lie beside me on the bed,

But I remain

Untouched.

And if somewhere two lovers

Making love,

Enjoy the span of time,

Whatever it is,

I come to grips with what it means

That I am

Untouched

And untouchable.

There's nowhere else for you to sit

Than right beside me on this bed,

And day will pass,

And night will fall,

And all we will do is make conversation

Of an untouchable nature,

Unless your stature is so grand,

And you can be the sort of man,

Or woman, who could dare

Touch me.

-jenn