BRIDGING THE MIDDLE.

Let us lay
Face to face
And do something intimate,
Like drip spit between our tongues,
Or lick lips until numb
Or press thumbs into the recesses of our necks
And,
Before sex
Takes us,
Make a pact
To act better when
Not in so familiar a position,
And then maybe when languishing
In the atrocious abyss
Caused by distance,
And the contempt it lends itself to
When patience can’t wait any longer,
We can recall
Being enthralled
By each other,
And recover composure
Long enough
To remember how long
Our far-flung
Love
Has lasted,
And how its confidential pledges
Endlessly close
Whatever remoteness
Comes
Between us.