You and Me

It's just us in an empty house. The rules are frayed cotton threads barely holding together the dance of each day.

You have school, I have patients, but we reconvene at dusk and dawn. You still hold the light, while my light flickers and sputters.

You are fluid emotions and I am tangled steel wool.

We spar, your mouth pouting, face now a tomato. Your words are hurled, randomly chosen, like candy from a jar. They sound so sweet when said in your voice, but still, they sting when they hit.

I open my arms and you run in full tilt. We tumble over, me holding you, and you bury your face in my heart.

I miss his voice. It is grounding to us wandering wayfarers, chaotic dreamers. Though it will be back soon, it is miles away for now.

And so we wander, holding each other tight, dreaming of tomorrow.