Texts to É. during My First Work Commute in Two Years

This far underground, the air
& light stretched
thin, I feel overwhelmed
by the strangeness
of a structured
bra / The metallic
pressure from eyes
& hooks / How to accept
my new morning routine:
coffee, tailored skirts,
the obligatory questionnaire
from our daughter's
daycare / Clicking boxes
that promise she hasn't
had trouble breathing in
24 hours / No fever, cough,
or contact with anyone
awaiting test results /
This morning I left her
again in the arms
of a woman whose face
I've never fully seen, wincing
as she tugged the teacher's
blue mask / Now I ride
through darkness with a knot
where our daughter
once lived / My belly
smooth as swell
waves that have nearly
outrun the storm /