Hi Erica,

Thanks for your comments.
This was just a late night, stream of consciousness kind of poem.

I am happy that you like it.

Regards,
Chaim

Kissing chicken pox was a striking image--both disgusting and self-sacrificial (even though it was only the scar). The first three lines are well crafted. 

I was confused about the subject of "want" for a second, but then got it. The phrase "clear air passages" seems jarring following the previous line: a dreamy line followed by a technical one. "On my forehead" seems a little redundant. 

Definitely some good things in there, which I think could really shine through in revision.

Hi Chaim

I like this but I'm curious.  The "you" is, I presume the narrator's wife so who is "she"?  an ex? your mum?  several options.

Tired touches me
the way she kissed
my chicken pox mark
on my forehead.
It's raining
this evening.
Want to kiss your forehead
they way she kissed mine.
Want to touch
lips, eyelids, breasts, belly button.
The baby cries.
I take him from his crib,
rock him to sleep.
He coughs and sputters,
sneezes twice.
Close my eyes and visualize
clear air passages.
Open my eyes,
he's watching me.
I'm not sure it's still raining.
The baby is asleep.
You're in bed.
Tired touches me
the way she kissed
my chicken pox mark
on my forehead.