Bubble wrap ("you")

I am dreaming of a taxi

and new and old ways to say things to you,

the one who once whispered,

“You kind of look like champagne,”

when I discovered bubble wrap stuck to my shoes –

Well, and so

we can dampen our priorities,

but then we would all be a lukewarm 55 degrees,

checking off the ‘friend box’ like a ‘like’ on Facebook,

losing that necessity of human collisions,

the feeling of danger and floating around --

So instead I feel very lucky

to think about all parts

of being the Madwoman,

unencumbered by narrow-mindedness

referring to the ‘have to know,’

if that’s even possible --

The answer is when I get back,

“you,” and “miss you,” and “glad you,”

how cool is just being able to be you?

I want to go about doing just that --

Otters hold hands while they sleep.

I want to write the events of life

as unconditional love --