Ready to set foot again. Maybe I've never really done it before; to open the latch, just the idea sets something ligher in me. A burden shifts and my eyes seem a little more open.
***
Where I'm going (.) You can't come. I want a piece of forgiveness, a lick of heaven, to know it's real and not a liquid mirage taunting my frail optimism. Those soft lullabies were for me; a charmed life in words and pictures set to music.
***
He walked through the door as if to claim a prize and his image was a magnet to my eyes. He just knew it had to be. He picked a chair closer to the front than the back and a soft part of me groaned silently because he didn't pick closer to me. I feign poor eye sight, squint gracefully, excuse my human frailty and decide on a chair close enough to him to smell his clean cloths.
A part of him relaxes with the proximity because closeness was comfort to him; like warm feet and homemade cookies. A heated body breathing as he, looking as he (with a bit of a squint) with smooth skin and shiny dark hair, being akin made him aware...