Later, when this is all over

I believe I would like to drag the back of my fingernail

across the skin just above your elbow

feel the press of your lips to the inside of my wrist

catch the shell of your ear between my teeth

and pull, just a little. Coat my palate with the salt of you


Maybe someday,

the idea of being near you will lose the dread terror

that makes me want to leap six-to-ten feet to the left

Instead I’d rather cross the inner bounds of your focal range

All our soft edges blending one into the other 

I want to know the rumble of your voice through bone conduction


Sometime in the future,

After our lungs are safe to let us risk the imagined danger, 

Immunity built up against the ghost of hurt,

I want to bury my face in the nape of your neck

And learn by name every one of your volatile organic chemicals

so I can piece you back together on the open breeze