Hard to break any Distance with that which feels Normal

The tis’ lit that’s okay you can
cry yourself to sleep
the can of light beer—were you
smiling!—and you touched on
the shoulder when you sleep I
can’t touch you
you smile I forget
you believe
cry forever? No, but
when I say I
think thank and cover
your shoulder under two blankets
the back of your
bra will surprise me
Next year we’ll be drunk, us
both, hang
up sharply