“No” comes like a push.
The kindest ones won't push you back,
If you've been sweet.
They'll try to save your face;
They let you fall down into space –
Like “maybe next week?”
Or “Sorry, I have plans,”
Or “Tonight's a laundry night,”
Or “I may be getting a flu –
I'll let you know.” They step
Away every time you step
In, until you turn – and go.
& if you don't like falling,
You'll have to hand her
Something to place in your ear –
shaped like a non-push
but pushing-clear:
Like “Just so you know,
I'm softer past this rind.
But if you'd rather keep your
Nails clean, I understand:
Send me a smile, and I'll
Use this door. Glad to have
Met you.” Beyond her , there's more
To make your own smile rise,
To make you feel rooted
In your heart again...
She'll :)smile:) soon. ;)wink;) back
apace:
She's sweet – she won't enjoy hitting
your face.
(In case you're wondering about the imagery - I'm a believer in closure rituals. The only thing we ever did was go for a run, so I ran her off: ran from RAT beach to 22nd street in Hermosa, through the Friday night drinkers and dogs and kids on bikes ... and then home again. Just me and my feet - and a pair of shorts - in the warm summer wind.
ReplyDeleteShe was the wind before me, then the wind behind me. Onward.