Sincerely, Jennifer x

Sunlight has settled outside,

knocking on the glass,

gazing at me,

the queen of quarantines,

decorated in my Sunday best,

my nostalgia,

for the outside world,
that I never really liked that much,

until it was a path,

to the side of the one I love,

is a thorn in my side,

and a thorn in my forehead.

I rode a bike once,

into the back of a van,

rearranging my face,

and I miss the rushing wind,

against my broken nose.

I miss my husband’s hand in mine,

when I would sleep,

his fingers tightly holding mine,

keeping me on the earth.

I leave it,

now and again,

when I dream,

when I think.

I leave more often,

now I have nowhere else to go.