Love in the time of Corona is anything you want it to be.

Involuntarily doing the sign of the cross at stop signs.

Two months ago, I walked up and down hills towards the cemetery to visit dad–

It felt like dying.

Do you think his memory has completely deteriorated by now?

As a child my mother said if I kept being so angry my heart would turn black.

And sitting outside on the grass for the first time in months made me yearn for love even more.

But what’s the point of love anyway?

The AC used to be turned all the way up on car rides with dad; it always did smell of gasoline stations.

Because I’ve been craving tenderness only a little bit more than usual.

And love is – and will always be – the opposite of death.

Love in the Time of Corona and My Free-Floating Anxiety

I decided to stop talking out of necessity.

Not grounded, just swallowed.

He was ahead of his times, really. Always inside lying in bed.

Arbitrary allergic reactions fueled by feverous chills

Last fall I kept writing him, but he never wrote back.

I honestly just want to be loved.

Like when the moon was in 3D

And I wrote to him, “I have been recalled to life. I hope you are too.”

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