Finger on the pulse
Seismic zone
Far from the epicenter
Gives away the feelings
Strong feelings erupt
Tremors felt far and wide
Deep chasms devour
One with finger on the pulse
Passionate surrender

your poems, like yourself
are better than you think

Maybe if I close my eyes
my fingertips will feel like yours
Maybe if I lay deathly still
I can pretend you're here by me
Maybe if we stay online
we'll be in the same bed one day
Maybe if I inhale deeply
You'll be there to exhale for me.

would you whisper softly
   onto my skin
      with your fingertips?

I used to paint my nails every month,
the night before chapel,
just to have something to scratch off the next day.
(Flakes of OPI No. 25 in the cracks of cheap pews)
Today I peeled the clear coat from my index finger in math
while I stared at a bottle of Diet Pepsi
Kept up at night by politics or teenage hormones, but usually both.
(Transferral: Catholic to Jewish, Madonna to Lindsey)
Steel replaced by fingertips, arms replaced by thighs.
A year ago, I wouldn't have believed I would be thinking of foreign policy puns at midnight,
even if Jesus himself had told me so.