I want to be buried with you.
I don’t want to wait until we die.
In our small box,
we can lie
on top of each other
so close that your ribs press into mine
every time you take a breath –
every time you move against me.
Our eyes will never adjust to the darkness.
We will fumble forever with beginner’s hands.
My breath will be your breath.
In our cemetery, we’ll have neighbors
who are silent –
who never bother us.
I will place my feet
under the soles of your feet
to warm them,
and we will never be cold.