Six feet apart.

Humble galaxies of indigo inhale and exhale between our gloved hands.

We reach outwards

But never inwards.

Where covetous demons reside,

Ravenous for a bite of the sun’s rays,

Which she has been so generous to share.

Yet we dimmed her glow,

And conquered her home;

Strangled her children,

And robbed her of nourishment,

Still wanting more.

We hold now in those spaces of barren universes,

A sanctuary for her to emerge.

The first whiff of maple blossoms flushed she has

Without the asphyxiation of our ungloved palms.

Six feet apart

Is better than six feet under.