After the Zoom
When we finally got to stop zooming
and meet in person again, we didn’t
know we had lost something in the process.
We had left part of ourselves in the cloud
or in some less random configuration
that can be digitized in binary numbers.
A couple of us said they had forgotten
how to love, that they’d abandoned
their hands and all they could feel
for a smidgen too long, and made love
like arcade crane machines, always
dropping the stuffed toy at the last
second, feeling compelled to speak
pigeon English, as in me want fuck.