somebody who left a long time ago
rapped on my door one grey afternoon.
we sat on the couch without a word
meeting (sometimes) each other’s eyes
yet making like they hadn’t touched.
we crossed our arms, paced the room,
stared at the floor. if our eyes had been pistols
the house would have been destroyed. finally,
i rose, went out, could not return.
when i did, still they were there:
implacable, patient, portentous.
we began to talk a little for decorum
then fast as a hungry man eats
but resistance was strong, forgiveness hard
for (as it happened) myself was she.
it has taken many sessions of sitting, just being,
but now that creature and i are eternal friends
the other’s each.