Maybe that's love
the space that exists between things,
the reason there are gaps
between our fingers.
Between everything.
I'd never been good at using chopsticks.
I'd always drop them trying to grip
something heavy,
something more substantial.
One stick would go left, the other
would go right,
making a mess of everything.
Rice was easy.
But then again, maybe that's how love works.
snapping between the space of things,
Because she could pick them up
and use them, no problem.
It kind of changes your perspective
when you're hungry and can't eat
how you want to eat.
Rice is good, but I wanted something a bit heartier.
Something me and my clumsy
hands could enjoy.
She'd laugh,
chowing down on her noodles,
all tangled and twisted up.
It came naturally to her.
Me, I just couldn't get it.
The more we sat,
the more I craved something
Other than rice.
I craved her heart.
Steady, patient.
I didn't know how to hold her
But one day I'll learn how
