For the lovers disrupted by the lumbering ghost of Corona.

A tribute to human affection and contact, torn away from so many temporarily and beyond.  

But for the six feet between us, 

I would place my hand upon your hand. 

I would throw my arms around your arms. 

I would hold you close to me. 

I would pass my fingers through your hair.

I would feel your softest parts pressed into mine. 

I would goofily shoo you away, tapping your forearm without thinking. 

I would gaze at your skin, seeing the complexion no lens can capture. 

I would listen to you whisper, feeling your breath waft over my eyes like a gentle wind. 

I would walk towards you, knowing in a moment only our clothes would separate us. 

I would lie by your side, worrying about tomorrow but not this moment. 

I would whisper into your ear, wishing I had popped a mint first. 

I would feed you mouthfuls of delicacies, for once ignoring its worth in calories. 

I would hand you that thing, brushing your fingertips with mine. 

I would tell you about that guy, watching your eyes grow wide. 

I would drink in your giggles, noticing how your mouth closes mid-smile.

I would change my plans if you were coming over.

I would get that shirt you like pressed for our night out. 

I would love how the folds of your dress drape over my leg on the subway. 

I would taste your dessert cause I never order my own.

I would snuggle up next to you on the Uber back home. 

I would get in your way in my tiny Brooklyn kitchen. 

I would read to you hardly caring if you listened because at least you were near me. 

But for the six feet between us.

Subscribe To Our Newsletter

Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from our team.

You have Successfully Subscribed!