Time to learn and time to lapse.

It grows harder the longer without.

All that remains is curiosity for—

not the touch itself, but the reaction.

To feel your hairs rise and curl

in momentary unease, then agreement. To feel

by flesh, not figments.

It grows harder to love when the loneliness

has wrapped you in its stole. 

You’re the bride of a ghost of your own making.

I hope he’s handsome, if that’s your pleasure.

I hope he comes when you call.

He can do whatever you please 

but keep you warm.