Touching Gopher

In September 2008 I lost Gopher, my wife of 15 years. I wrote this in her memory to remember the happiness I found in the simple act of touching her.

boring dinners and social conversation
and lectures dull and bland
I lived through boredom worse than death
when I reached out and held your hand

when the din of humanity filled my ears
and I thought "God, let me die"
I'd secretly reach over and rest my hand
on top your soft and silky thigh

haunted by demons and dragons
and fiends, mostly my own creation
I reach out and gently grasp your hand
quickly soothed by tactile elation

when there were chairs to spare
we'd share a chair
to have the comfort of contacting hips
but the best touch of all
was when our very hearts touched
by way of our loving lips