Dear Sir

Dear Sir,
Nine out of ten times I avoid
shaking hands with others.
[I know what you, sir, would say
--- that I'm a misanthrope
or an asocial dastard or a snob.
But, sir, please do wait!]

Out of sheer courtesy
I've shaken many a hand.

---hands firm and hands limp,
hands cold and hands clammy,
hands trembling and hands steady
and hands so warm that they would stir up my soul.

I've felt it all.

Some would drain me out
And some would fill me up.

As the other stretches out his hand
I'm uncertain as to what sort it'd be
And would go through a gamut of emotions
--- not so pleasant.
It, sir, is a moment of doubt and agony.
Would the shake be a bonding or a bondage?

With the women it's different
[I mean with the ladies.
Women don't shake, sir.
They only break.]
The hands meet only half the way.
Just a touch of fingers.
It's not the hands that connect
But the smiles in their eyes.
[Nevertheless, sir, as with men
So with ladies too
I keep my distance
for I have a horror of halitosis.]

So, sir, in short,
an outstretched hand is a threat to me.
when I see one I shrink inside
lest  it sucks all my vibes out .

"What about hugs, my man?" Sir, you ask.
That's a different kettle of fish;
Better ask our nation's dear leaders.