Three thousand miles,
Fifteen million, eight hundred, forty thousand feet.

No matter how you say it,
Worlds away are we;
Oceans, food, people apart.

But eyes closed, I feel your fingers,
Trail up my spine, touching-tickling,
Sending shivers through nape to toe tips.

I smile and snuggle close, 
Comforting body pressed against my back,
Sending my heat flowing back to me.

You are right here with me.
I open my eyes, mourn to see,
The fan and pillow that make up your body and fingers.

But I know:
Oceans can be crossed.
Food can be shared.
And people grow together.