She twists and turns away from me and her shadow shifts from my arm to the hallway floor. Down the staircase goes my love and down into my gut goes my heart. The heels on the floor and the hand on the brass nob are the rhythm of a world suffocating. Years together couldn't prepare me for the first night alone.
I step past the full and tilted coat rack and stand shivering on the front step listening to the pattering of the drops of rain. Around me the front light casts a weak and dirty yellow aura and she steps beyond the half-life of all that we've ever known. She disappears and reappears under every street light with silver ribbons of rain falling around her. And me; I stand.
Why am I still here? Is part of it surrender, of letting go of the heart of clay or the kite of childhood? Is it my pride? I find my heart and mind are ill-equipped for all of this and I step back closer to the portal. Am I so prideful to try to hold onto something spiraling away from me or am I too ignorant and deficient to break free beyond indecision and expereince and to run after her? To catch her by the hips and to face my love and my fear in the eys . . . .
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