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

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