Contact

Contact can mean so many things.

Staying in touch via all sorts of mediums, be it a mobile phone, landline, email, good old fashioned pen and paper or even webcam.

Wishing a stranger in the street good morning, could be the only contact that person has all day.

But my preference is simply paying someone a visit, popping round for a cup of tea and a chat.

Spending time in the company of friends.

Sitting around the table with the girls and a glass of wine.

Playing cards with my mother on a Sunday afternoon.

Or cuddling on the couch watching some dance programme with my daughter.

Contact is also about the things we touch.

The good deed that we do, that then reflects onto another's life.

The part that we play in everyday events, with the people that we meet in passing.

Never quite knowing what effect we might have on another individual, good or bad.

Thinking about contact with another reminds me of how I feel when I'm with DC.

The sense of physical closeness, being next to him in the car, on the couch, or in bed.

It is the feel of his skin on mine, whether we're lying naked or simply holding hands.

It is the sense of smell as I breath him in as we intently kiss, as if for the first time.

It is the softness of his skin across his shoulders, as I gently explore his curves.

It is the warmth of his cheek against mine.

Connecting with another human intimate or otherwise, takes different forms, that contact can mean so many things to many people.