The Art of the Hug

A bag of bones asked me for a hug
I pressed them close to share the warmth
But they were stiff and empty inbetween

I giggled as its cold fingers let me go
It pulled my joy into the vacuum
That increased with each retreating step

I’m not a good actress
I can’t pretend we are strangers
Even though we just met today

I don’t want to hug someone like
The sun hugs the jagged edge of a rock
I want to hug like the magnet hugs the fridge

But even I cannot polarize a bag of bones.
And if the sun became an overpowering magnet
There would be no space to create a hug.