Tuesday, April 28, 2020

OVERDETERMINED LOVE POEM

I had often thought—
it's just enough
to be walking
shoulder to shoulder.

I didn't want to talk
about work, or go out—
I only wanted
to get where we were.

How I wished I could touch
your wrist
with just the tip
of one finger—

as if
the heat transfer initiated
would validate
the deeper reality of our situation.

How much work, I insisted
it would take
to explicate the pledge-
of-allegiance-way that I care;

I swear, to this day
sometimes I just sit here—
for half an hour,
maybe more,

tolerating
the acceptable feeling
of knowing you
are out there somewhere.