For now I will rock him gently back to some
form of calm as I raise
my left hand slightly above my face and let
it hold my chest higher,
while I drop my right hand where your waist
should be and I feel
my feet fumble through the familiar steps
of a familiar dance.
I will dance with the ghost of you and
swear that when I turn
just in the right direction or close my
eyes long enough I can smell
your hair and feel the form you should be
filling spill into my empty
fingers. I will hear the fabric rustle and
the feet shuffle and
taste your lips on my lips and feel your
heartbeat bouncing through
the cavity where I know my heart once lived
before it grew tired of
this place and paid it’s last month rent
and left nothing but empty
boxes and broken promises and piles of my
life like dust on the floor
ready to be swept up and thrown away with
all it didn’t see fit to
pack for the trip back to you. When the music that isn’t playing stops
and the awkward shuffling alone through the
room feels sillier than
it should and I am left standing alone and
dizzy will the walls whisper
to me, finally, all of the words that were
left unsaid between us?
Will they mock me or will they grow soft
and cradle me into them
and allow me the spared dignity of muffling
my sobs with their
insulation, just for a moment, just for
awhile.
~ Tyler Knott Gregson
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