1. Something no longer measured in length, but time.
(it has been 53 days since I last pressed my lips against your neck and breathed in the warmth of you)
(it has been 53 days since I last breathed)
2. The space required between one another to keep safe.
(open highways give way to closed borders and your skin is cold to the touch behind this glass screen)
3. A word used to describe feelings of loneliness during times of indefinite isolation.
(I no longer know how to define my life other than with you or not with you)
4. A degree of separation unable to be overcome at this time.
(and still the planes are grounded and I am alone at an airport with nothing but a handful of credits and you are not here, you are not here, you are not here)
~ Kathy Parker