In Poems

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let us imagine again kissing strangers.
let us imagine the sweat of their upper lips.

let us brush shoulders soon in supermarkets
& not startle, not flutter in us
the crows of anxiety, black-feathered murder
perched on our hunched shoulders cawing
“sick, sick, sick.”

let us step in chewed gum (one day, we will again)
& not fear the infection of spit.
dirt-freckled glob stuck to our shoes shoes—
even this, a kind of gross proof of love,
how any sticky substance might adhere
us to others.

from spring’s lonely languor, let us
dream of closeness. let us gander
summer days. even the sun’s
brimstone prayer dance is holy
singe on pinked skin.
the burn is worthwhile for that hour of good light.