When we’re together again,
passing the bread basket and the salad between us,
will I fear you the way I do now?
You are not scary, my friend,
but I am scared of you all the same.
Haven’t I always been, though?
Six feet and a mask
was never enough to keep me safe
from the havoc you could wreak by knowing me.
To let you in: a risk,
weighed out and measured
and worth it.
I pray when the time finally comes,
and I can reach for your hand again,
I won’t hesitate.