This is a poem I thought of whilst getting acupuncture. I was sitting across from a curtain as I waited 15 minutes with needles in my hands. There was a wind blowing the curtain around gently.
Curtain, oh curtain, won't you touch me please?
I don't care how, by whim or by breeze.
Curtain, oh curtain, won't you touch my hand?
Help me remember a soft reprimand.
Curtain, oh curtain, our time is nearly done.
It's OK you didn't touch me, my hand's already numb.
