I think my body has developed a cure for you.
I no longer crave your touch.
And you are just a text message away.
And yet I think,
When you were closer to me
Death was not an issue
Because you were close to me
I felt validated by your soft lips.
I wasn’t a phantom. I was just another oppressed worker in love.
I miss not feeling that way,
And then I thought about surrendering to you again.
And then my anti-bodies kick in.
They remind me about the last time.
The vulnerabilty of opening up.
Maybe, someday I’ll open this rib-cage again.
Maybe, I’ll become sick again.
(c) A.R. Minhas 2020