A Caress (n.) aims at neither person nor thing: it loses itself in a being that dissolves as into an impersonal dream, will-less, already animal or childlike, already wholly at death.
A Caress (n.) of a consoler promises no end to suffering; it frees the very instant of pain from the vise of 'oneself' — fresh air, a future.
A Caress (n.) in its random agitation admits that access is impossible, violence fails, possession is refused.
A Caress (n.) is dormant in every sensory or verbal contact: in it proximity means languishing in the presence of the neighbor as though his nearness were also an absence.
The Sense of touch (n.) is the sense we ask permission before using on someone else.
The Sense of touch (n.) cannot examine anything without also changing it.
The Sense of touch (n.) is how you know a thing is real before you name it.
The Sense of touch (n.) is the sense you cannot close, which is why it gets used for comfort and for punishment both.
A Stroke (n.) does not end the person; it edits them.
A Stroke (n.) is damage that rearranges a person while the room keeps talking.
A Stroke (n.) takes the words first, so the person has to report the emergency using the thing that just broke.
A Stroke (n.) is a terrible thing. One could even say that to win in life the same way you win in golf - by having the least number of strokes.