He was touched or he touched or

He was touched or he touched or she did and was, or they were and would. Or the room could, its three doors, two windows or the house on a slant touching, touched by the drift down street, cars pressing quick or slowing. All along the town touched a river, the river the filth falling through it. What was clean— a source pure as rumor—a shore touching lake touched by wind above, and below, a spring. All touch blindly further water. That blue touching blacker regions in the sea so weirdly solitary, each to under, to every sideways past deeper, where nowhere.