Making I Contact

There is nothing but my EYES left to see...
Covered head to toe in my
Medicinal burka...
Is this what she feels like?
Protected? Guarded? Conspicuous?
Only revealing the seeing part of me...
So now I only use my I to connect...
Eyeing others Eyeing me from a distance...6 feet or more...
Searching to know,
Are you death approaching my door?
Should I run?
Should I be scared?
As we eye each other
Revealing the dread
of walking into each other’s space
Avoiding the connections of face to face.
Listening for a cough ...
Dreading a sneeze ....
“Cover your mouth, won’t you please! “
Avoiding human contact that could bring me to my knees.
But still, I walk silently through the lonely streets
seeking contact I can greet, with a wave or a nod
Some recognition of my BE-ing...
because the last thing I want to do,
The very last thing I want to do is return home to isolation
Where there is no recognition of who I BE.
So, I wander the neighborhood hoping
Wanting,
Needing,
to make I contact.