November 17th, 2008

 

My inbox remains empty. My phone is silent.

I cannot will you into these places,

though god knows I’ve been trying.

 

I am certain of very little in this world.

 

So I try to be honest with myself and others

hoping at least for a connection now and again,

however tenuous, however frayed and timid.

 

We all need someone to call our own.

 

We accomplish weeks of therapy in mere minutes together,

you and I. You have undone knots, months in the making,

without ever even touching me.

 

I imagine what miracles your hands might enact.

 

I might become a child again were we to have a month.

Who knows what years would do…return me to a state

of eager, hopeful, uninhibited innocence?

 

I like to think I might have given you something in return;

that I might continue to give.

 

Yet a kiss on the cheek does not a suitor make.

 

And fear is not exclusively my domain.