kissing is the best vector of transmission

some things do not stop at the end of the world
even if the restaurants are bare
and my fridge is empty too

some small things live in between the puny pulse
like the fact that i still love her
even if there is quiet in her deep, open heart now
even if the light slumps idle in my room
stuck trying to clean my bones and floorboards

the big things too
they are continuing to crawl
like how the earth splinters with old wounds
from the last failed apocalypse
like how there is odd comfort in blindly knowing
that we are all in the same situation now
terrorized by the minute misery of a virus
no matter our lives before
or after when you said
that i was wrong

we are not the world
we do not have a way for it
so that it cannot be lost
so that we can be all of all

some things, you said, stop
they end
even if they are just starting to be
the beginning of the world