Why—
If everyone is pinned to their homes Touch Starved
Why—
If texting until three is the same as making out at two
Why—
If sharing corners of ourselves through screens, when true, can bring us closer than any hot night, naked and too soon in their house with walls too close to each other and to me
Can we not remember how to take off our trauma—
Every time they left,
Every left turn at trying,
Every anxiety downloaded without our consent in an age we didn’t ask for,
To remember how it felt to be young and nervous, with nothing but our best intentions for each other?
Speaking quietly,
Our truth into the night,
On and on,
Until whenever.
It doesn’t not matter.