i wash my hair three
times a day, combing through
with my fingers to dislodge
thoughts of you. i may spend
an hour trying to scrub
you out in the shower but
i cannot watch you drip down
the drain and wave goodbye with soap
stinging my eyes; you're already
deeper than skin. so long my
daydreams have blossomed there that
water has taken on your scent. our pulses
have the same cadence, rising and
falling like our breath, impossible
to separate. this disease is giving me
vertigo so i cannot tell up from down while
wobbling through reality and hallucinations on
unsteady legs, bones tipping towards you. desperation
drives me into your eyes looking for
the perfect circle to fit your arms
around and around me. i cannot
stay away, cannot keep my quarantine, and
i'm taking shaky steps toward you as though
my body's made of steam accumulated
in the shower. i want you deeper
than flesh, where your soul runs thick, and
i cannot leave this sidewalk leading
to you, mesmerizing. it's like staring
into the headlights and waiting,
unable to move, for the crash
(the glass and lights will taste so sweet).