For this is not a poem
it’s black ink
lost over the page
For this is not a page
it’s me facing a screen
bring to play
For this is not play
four light people, one dark
all struggle
For this is not struggle
women toil over dishes
home school and remote work
For this is not remote
it’s right here
in the virus eating your air
For this is not air
but salt and tears
drying my face
For this is not my face
but yours
no longer breathing next to me