It was easy, then, when you were only 2-D,
to keep you safe in your container.
No tools required to maintain equilibrium —
you and me, clearly and distinguishably intact,
separated by 3,000 or more miles.
But the miles are closing now,
2,638 counting down
in two days
and one 9-hour flight
you will cross the divide of you and me
and everything will quickly,
dramatically
Change.
You will have breath and texture, skin and bone and heat,
and I will not be able to keep you there
across the borders,
safe in the box I built so comfortably for you,
where longing cannot reach me
and reality lives in the mystical realm of someday.
Time is erupting in my body,
filling out heart and breasts and breath and vulva.
Even my skin is ripening,
and beneath my skin I am juicening.
I am made for the bite that will release
the pressure of wanting.
You are not here yet.
Still miles and miles away.
But today I lost the battle to keep you safely enclosed —
my own body bursts the container
I was sure I’d built of stone,
already reaching for the smell of you,
the taste of you, the whole
depth and breadth of the 3-D of you,
the real live substance of feel.
It was easy, then, when you were only 2-D,
to keep you safe in your container.
© Sabrina Santa Clara, 2012