sturtle [dot] com

RECENTLY ARRIVED

After years of coveting my friends’ copies, I finally purchased Suzanne Somers’ first volume of poetry, Touch Me. It was 76 cents on eBay, people. And in brilliant shape, except for a bit of cyan around the edges (a picturesque bit of aging, recently explained). No rips, no tears: only priceless literary gems like this:

Touch me

  Gently

    For I am fragile

  Firmly

    For I am strong

  Often

    For I am alone.

Touch me

  Not like a cat

  Or a tree

  Or even a flower

For I am more than all of these

Yet akin to them: a woman.

Touch me

  For I was made to be touched.

I can never be touched enough

–from the title selection of Touch Me

Oh yes, bitches. There’s more where that came from.