22

By February 22nd,

We would face our:

fingertips like words,

manifestos we could write,

liquids wrapped in tissues,

velvet temples to inhale,

lost keys to open doors,

redundant gears in knee-deep snow,

sofa beds for sleepless nights,

furniture to push,

hidden limits, too,

haunting voices,

radio silence,

clogged noses in shared space apart,

night flights away,

seasons reversed,

peroxide-stubborn hair,

cuts, punctures and incisions,

light feet and heavy tongues,

droughts before day zero,

rains that come to send me

home.

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