My face- my eyes, my mouth
light up in the same way
that my phone does, when I see
your name, your icon, your words.
High from the rush from the blush
from the tingling of my blood as my heart
no longer still, no longer static
tap tap taps away at my chest
like a woodpecker, like a rasp on the front door-
like a dancer in tiny shiny shoes who taps along to the melody in her head
But I’m also exhausted.
I’m exhausted from the breathlessness from the ache
in my chest in my lungs, the lump
in my throat that makes it so hard to swallow
whenever I see you, hear you, feel you.