Trace

I draw an invisible form on the cold marble table.
Just a continuous line, then curves, then loops.

I don't know what I am drawing
Nor does my finger.
But the coolness of the marble
Caressing the delicate fingertip
Just feels so hypnotic.

When I lift my finger
There is no trace of anything.

Yet somehow I feel
A trace of quiet peace
From the pure sensory journey.

(-)

What would you like to trace?