4/365: Bodies In Isolation

The old tree at my grandma's that spit sap on the garage
and women with wide, loud mouths
and the kid next door who had rubber boots up to his knees
and old men with translucent ankles beneath their trousers
and that red dog with the wild tail full of seedpods
and those ancient ladies with rogue chin hairs they can't see
and the mule deer who nuzzled me in a northern forest
and skinny boys with hollow chests
and the girl who stole looks at me over her laptop, smiling,
I am in love with you.

I want to live all your lives,
exist inside your eyes and vascular systems,
but we can only watch each other
as bodies in isolation,
waiting to light up each other's nerves
with words and touch and accidents of our natures,
like a breath on the neck
or rustling in the wind.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com

5/365: 3 Haikus While I Battle a Cold

Five Star Friday's 220th Edition Is Brought to You By Rigoberta Menchú