space.
we have to breath
without
another looking over our shoulders.
we don't
like the lingering waiter,
the impatience
of a clerk
leaning in.
we stand
back on the subway
car,
nudges away are made
in mere inches,
and yet we need them.
the approaching fingers
of the dentist makes us
cringe.
we need
the separation. a hand
on our shoulder
is an irritant if not invited.
even in the grave,
we need some room,
six feet under,
and at least arms length
from side to side.
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