across ocean

(send a blanket in the mail - it's getting chilly out there)

I tickle you with
words because that’s the
only way to
touch you; when
we will sit,
snooze together again?
my dearest darling friend, makes my
face flush warm tickling
massage? how bout it
you say ‘amen to that’
like the end of prayer, me wishing when
you answer
every couple weeks
’cross an ocean you
flicker in a screen
my teeth flicker too and
I’m smiling into you
that big-tooth sheen of mine
I know you’re keen on it and
you onscreen
my big brown eyes lit and I—
you, afterward, after words we
smile, having gleaned from
the eyes, the sheen—that we know
'kindred' means that
only we know what 'we' mean