the clock ticks louder here.
her pen scratches the paper,
like she’s carving me
into little notes.

she looks at me too long,
her eyes heavy,
like they’re waiting
for me to spill something
I can’t even hold.

I stare at the windows instead,
watch a bird flutter past,
and wish I could go with it.

„How does that make you feel?“
she asks.
I want to say,
„like I’m drowning in a room
with no doors.“
but I just shrug,
pick at my sleeve,
and let the silence win.

she says we’re making progress.
I nod.

but the only thing I leave behind
is the shape of my body
on the chair.

She sipped her drink,
eyes darting around the room,
like she was looking for something
she didn’t want to find.

I sat next to her,
close enough to hear her breathing,
close enough to feel the silence
where her words should’ve been.

When her hand brushed mine,
she didn’t pull away,
not right away,
but then she laughed too loudly,
like it never happened.

I let her have the lie.

Buried so deep
Excavating
Traveling the world
Waiting. Waiting.

Ice and snow
Vienna. Chicago.
Cordelia not King Lear
Othello not Iago

            Staunton!

Taught Robert Frost to the tweens
Read them Things Not Seen
Fr. Greeley was kind to me
Billy Graham was mean

I miss basketball
I play for my team
Meister Eckhart's Without a Why
Rabbi Nahman's silent scream

Dost thou call me fool, boy?

All thy other titles thou hast given away.
That thou wast born with.

Any velvet or satin morning
When Alexa is quiet and the alarm doesn't blare
Finding myself in your arms is a delight
For every love poem about you
Just know looking into those blue eyes
In your arms
Morning hugs you call them
Is sheer delight
I love You

C@rainbowchaser2025