It absolutely is a sexist over-simplification. I was hoping someone would point that out.

Don't touch me the way a crow lights on a wire and then takes flight.

Don't touch me like two ships passing in the night.

Don't touch me as if I am a plastic toy made in Hong Kong and you are shopping for the cheapest gift.

Don't touch me the way a merchant lifts a piece of fabric looking for rifts.

Don't touch me the way a one-armed man shakes hands,

or the way the trembling fingers of an old woman lands, as she buttons up her sweater.

No, I want the fetters of commitment, 'I love you' spelled letter by letter.

Touch me like a mother hen rests on her eggs

or the way a dog begs for a bone

or the way a jazz musician's mouth blows a wild note on a saxophone

or a pigeon hones in on home.

I want to be touched like I'm the last woman on earth

and you are the last man and you have loved me since we were kids.

You have loved me and waited all those years.

Touch me the way a connoisseur at an auction bids

when he fears his bid is too low.

Touch me the way the wind blows the rain as if it knows where every drop should go.

Touch me as if you are kissing your own spirit,

as if you know the answer to the meaning of life,

as if you are a knife slicing fruit,

touch me with the truth.

Touch me with your voice, lingering on each vertebrate, each knuckle,

Touch me the way newborn babies suckle.

Touch me with your ears that listen for each creak of my soul.

Touch me like I am a tuning fork that picks up the slightest variation in your breath.

Touch me like I am the shroud that wraps you in death.