i locked the door after one of those conversations.
the ones that leave no questions.
I stood strong and bolted with certainty.
An answer hung in the air like the axe I use to smell
in the shower.
the questions kept coming and i had nothing to offer,
but a stiff lip.
He had learned to talk while I was away.
I learned to walk before we met,
like everything that goes unsaid,
I let it roll like my eyes
on the other side of the door.
Bolting will not be an option today...
I wondered if I could still reach the girl I use to be.
Through all the closed doors
to the swingsets and off the floors
I'd tell her it's all come to this...
a point? in time, in reason, in a new understanding of ourselves?
i forgot my point.
If a man can learn to talk, maybe I can learn to stand still.
I'm unsure of where this rambling is going.
So I'll sleep.
Life is getting back to good.