Poem: Touch

Disclaimer/Caution: Extremely intentional creepy material meant to be read in a White Goodman accent from Dodgeball imminent! 


I love touch. I like to touch.

I like the way you’re built.

It makes me want to touch.


like the feel of your clothes.

The cotton turns me on, the denim gives me a rush, the leather invigorates my soul.

I like that.


Let me feel your hair, my technique is flawless.

Let me smell you in public.


Is that lavender?


Your soft blouse gives me ideas, those rubbery flipflops make me wonder, and… Are those Pink booty shorts?  

I like those.  


I will admit it.

I’m a creeper, a stalker, a lurker and… oh, is that velvet? 

So smooth to my touch.


Prepare yourself, for my touch.

Your clothes I shall admire, and your face I shall massage with my fingers.

Is that fabric softener I smell?  

You spoil me girl.


Prepare yourself for the ultimate sensation… my touch.

Is that your face?

I can feel the lotion and smell the aloe.


Prepare yourself for my suave caress on the polyester of your pants.

Your beautiful wool socks…  I shall examine with the stubble on my face.


I shall stroke your creamy nose with my palm and feel your smooth jaws with my fingertips.

Come to me, fairest portrait of my affection.

My graceful touch you shall not forget.

Prepare to love.



I included an audio track with all creepiness demonstrated in the way this is read. It really gives you that, “WTF?!?” feel when you hear it. That’s intentional by the way.

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