The Password Made Flesh

What word do I use
to crack the screen
and hold your hand?

What’s the turn of phrase
that will transport me to your tears?

Which response –
from the texting dropdown menu –
offers a tissue?

What’s the Zoom password for your laugh?
You know, the one where your eyes crinkle
as you double over and continue your hilarity.

I want the lottery ticket that
gifts hugs after funerals.

It’s true, yes,
headphones caress my ears
as my mama tells me stories
of her childhood.

Warm food heats my tongue,
gifted from loved ones.

The softness of paper letters
cradles my hands.

Still, it is not enough,
as I long for your humanity.

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