The Dock

I'm hoping, that when all this
comes to a close,
that I'll be free to walk
till I reach the dock where
the water became air and air became lungs
and lungs became words and words were stopped
by lips; lips that were warm like soft wool coats.
I'm hoping that when everything stops,
I'll come back to the place where
we were the fog, and
no one was there to see us go.