if I could be any one of your body parts I’d
be your fingertips.
when you break my gaze on screen, I yearn for it like
a lost child.
keep pushing others out of the way at aquariums so I can
touch the stingrays
and nudge my calves with your nose when you
want to be brushed
I promise to always remember where your car is parked,
if you let me keep that photo of you as a young pilot
in my pocket
in public spaces, we fill the
air between us with supernovas.
you are Sirius
you are the lobster
you are the look across the room at a party;
feel my phantom hands on your shoulders
I’ll crawl into the nape of your neck and make a home
plaster myself across your skin so you can find me
in the grooves of your hands
I’ll sew my words into your sheets so you will never be without them
promise me you’ll comb out your tangled hair if it gets too much
and wait for me by the Whitney
as I walk 341 miles for you.