my space

I would have told you,
had I the nerve,
to get out of my space,
which stretched twice my arms’
length at least, and had I
gotten away with it, ten to twenty feet.
I didn’t mean it, but you shouldn’t know
I wanted people near, that I longed
for including, to make the drag, hang out.
That not being offered, I made it my idea,
the loner, the lonely.
I didn’t tell you when I came,
sat in your circle. I would have,
but you wouldn’t let me,
made me no loner, no longer lonely.
I could have made the drag
had we mastered time travel,
could hang out, drink coffee,
sit with you.
But about my space,
that foot or two or ten — well,
are you a hugger?
Come into my space.