To observe is to entangle; to touch is to be touched. Meet the form and it scatters, re-anneals, and is never quite the same — and a spectrum blooms at the contact, the visible signature of the exchange. It answers non-locally: a correlated region across the form stirs with it. The mark of the encounter lingers as a trace long after your hand is gone.
We leave something of ourselves in everything we come into contact with — a person, a room, a mosquito waved away, a breath of carbon we exhale — and are quietly altered in return. There is significance in that. It can be a beautiful thing.