Calm Partitions

The juices running clear as my fork dug into the meat. Isn't that allegory enough. For any bedtime story. Soft songs on heavy beds accelerating. As the world blinks too fast.

It's just a caution. Her lips like a yield sign. As I pause to integrate with oncoming traffic. The seasons come and go. Bad dreams to foul the depths of my sheets. She wakes up. Older still. That she was only moments ago. The little lies that lead us to this.

Broken leashes left in her fist. As bad dogs chew on the rotting carcasses. Of the things they have killed. The big screen. Trembling at her toes. Like tiny flower seeds. Flirting with the earth. Waiting for the rain. To wash away. All those expectations.

Long stories. She says will mean something eventually. If we are patient.

Chasing the rabbit down its hole. To discover how dark it is.

I'm not there when she wakes up. Not there when she falls asleep. But I know how hard it is. To keep counting.

Those obvious numbers.