He is taking care of me,
making me dinner or picking it up,
buying me groceries,
massaging me with ice cubes.

He comes into the room with a mask,
to ask me if he can hang out,
and we cuddle in bed watching Better Call Saul,
a mask over each of us.

I’m realizing I can’t kiss him with a clear conscience
for seven more days.
Somehow he keeps testing negative.
I'm glad he's not sick, but I'm annoyed too that we can't be together

This is part of why I love him
This is part of why I know he loves me