I’ll quote Shakespeare or Lord Byron
compare thee to a summer’s day
            and my favorite dark green pilling sweater

I’ll write verses that fall
out of mouth like loon-song    

a sonnet’s not enough—

            try an ode, something Keatsian
            bright star, would I were         
            steadfast as thou art—       

your fingertips trace mine
like feeling fingers for the first time

            I’ll wrap you in metaphors
            and a woolen blanket
            our limbs tangled in a
                        human knot—

the last time
I was touched it was invasion                                       

now everyone is too close—

            but here you are
                  here we are
                       shiny
                            untainted
                                        a kiss on the forehead

                                my ten hearts stop beating