Friday, October 8, 2010

Tickle; draft #1

The more I am tickled the more it hurts
I can't explain my irrational gasps
or the sensation that runs across my skin like army ants on the march
soft blue electric lights seeking for fuel
or a wind that quickly whips across your face
I flush red and my body shakes.

My cat Bella has an uncontrollable purr.
Touch her and she purrs. Give her attention and she purrs.
Now, at least a little, I understand her automaton nature:
tickled I laugh a chaotic mess, not funny but an unthinkable
gagging breathless gasp of funnies left behind.

My wife enjoys my helplessness.
Touch me wrong and I tickle.
Smooth skin and I tickle.
Tickle me I'm the tickle monster's return for revenge.

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