In an upside-down garden
She smiles into a shadowy window pane,
your walls are covered with distraction
the shades are drawn, the room is dark
and she has no place to draw attention
no one object to focus on
except, of course, you.
The morning sun does not lend warmth
she reaches for a blanket, for security
afraid, so much, of falling away
searches for comfort, in your voice
stands suddenly, walks across the room
puts on some music, you watch, you sing.
There is a worn path in the carpet,
from your bed to the door, through the living room,
down the hallway, an escape route
and she won't always need it.
Over her shoulder she smiles at you
you lean back on your elbows, laugh,
your eyes beckon her to you,
still afraid that she might run, she might leave
you hold your breath until you see
her take that step toward you.
In the dark nothing is different,
you still love her just the same
her lips form the words, she sings along
laughs, wraps your arms around her, snug
her eyes are happy, slightly smiling
and you know.
The path is known and worn,
someday she walks from your bed to the door,
slowly, pushes it shut, she knows
she won't always need it.
[This message has been edited by Allysa (06-03-2004 08:04 AM).]