Can I lick the stamp?

I’m staring at a postcard from Vienna.

It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere.

I packaged some frantic kisses.

Should I send them?

I swam a little today, in my chair,

while I dreamed alternately

of my backyard and your lap.

You know, safe places.

Wish you were in front of me

so I could read your eyes

and taste your smile.

That’s all for now.

Yours, I am.