You brought your avocados
and onions.
I bought the limes,
tomato,
and beer.
We shared it all,
along with the couch
and a sad story.
We talked of
far off places
and home,
and pulled a blanket over
us
for warmth
and comfort
and proximity.
Our bodies rested against
each other.
But I didn’t grab your hand.
I wouldn’t wrap my arms around you.
I don’t know if I should have.
But I just couldn’t.