When I come in
I have to scrub you from my skin
And it feels so horrible
Every time
Scrubbing away any trace of the air
That may have passed
From my lover’s lips to mine
Where once we shared breath
So joyfully
Our bodies do not touch
Our eyes reach out
Across the metres
But even our gaze
Feels too intimate, feels like it breaks the rules
When I go out
Performing the dance
And fearing the breath
Of my neighbour
Holding my own as we pass
Because there is not space enough
But the space that there is
Is vast
The distance grows between us
How do we come together now?
Last year we occupied the streets
And all over the world
We stood together
Raged together
Now we all rage indoors, alone
My life reduced
To a slab of rare minerals
Fifteen by seven centimetres
A tiny window on the world
A tiny mirror of my mind
It’s an addiction, an obsesssion
I cannot get enough
I am hooked
Hooked up, hooked in
Scrolling for indignation, scrolling for hope
I pay heavily with my consent
I pay with the highjacking
Of our wheezing politics
Which has died without a ventilator
In a cardboard box on the doorstep of the Apple Store
And since my hands are gloved
And cannot reach out and touch yours
All I can do now
Is the dreaming
The dreaming up of the world to come
I want to make a new world
Where we all hold hands again
But tighter than before
So no-one slips and falls
And gets trampled underfoot
Where that tiny window
Does not become my jailer
Or my narc
But still lets in the oxygen,
Lets in the light; and makes us space to be
Where we can breathe
This new, fresh air together
And feel the warmth and sweetness
Of another human’s speech upon our face
Like a caress, not a contamination
When I come in
I have to scrub you from my skin
And it feels so horrible
Every time
Video at: https://myshorten.com/K2t4 or https://youtu.be/le0T6K4ykG4
A Hard-Boiled Egg 