Away and Apart
by Daniel Young
Sitting down, face to face
there is no bandaid, there is no brace.
I am 1,800 miles from home, staring at you through a screen.
Missing you with an aching pain.
Like a foggy window, made of plexiglass,
we can move behind it, but never pass.
Our fingers laid, can match the others.
Still, much too far away for lovers.
This dividing pane, cuts me in half.
The mocking muses quoteth plath:
(nodding on the left bed side).
Tell me, what does the veil hide?
These bone bars which hold my heart,
constrict my breath and chain me short.
Like having four lead walls, caving in,
or perhaps I am a bug on a pin.
I flop about, a gasping fish
You make it better, but you can’t kiss.
Cause you’re not here,
and I’m not there.
You can’t even hug your teddy bear.