Your touch <br />grew inside me <br />until I am just a jar <br />of beckoning echoes <br />reverberating your touch <br /> <br />A jar praying <br />to faith in memory <br />dying in the senescent hands <br />of capitulated sanity <br /> <br />And all the bellows <br />are kept inside, <br />and all the sentiments <br />are kept inside – <br />a jar full of resentful <br />unyielding lies.<br /><br />Norman Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-jar-of-touch/
