Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Florida

I tell myself you are in Florida
on an island with no phone.
I tell myself you are lying in the sun
soaking up warmth.
I tell myself these things to keep from crying.
I do not like forced separation.
I am scared.
Scared of everything.
Scared to feel my own skin.
I am watching my breath and thoughts tailspin into a panic.
Over what?
A phone call?
You are here.
You are fifteen minutes away.
But it might as well be four thousand miles
because I can not feel you.
I can not see you.
I am searching with blind hands
over books and chairs
and jeans
for your body,
your voice,
when I can not
find my own.