He says to me,
“I do see you.”
I am by his window looking out.
The distance between us feels infinite
it seems
and the energy it takes for faith far less so
I don’t believe him. He only shows me what he decides to let me see. And I wonder if then he can only see as much of me as he feels in the mood to bother and try. it makes me wonder who I have been in love with—he gives as much as he is inclined and then he retracts as if everything between us never was and so I am the idiot ….but then that means he too is another fraud….
“Duva….”he walks over to me and pulls my face up to look at him taking my chin in his grip, “I am your father figure,” he whispers into my ear
I say,
“no! a father—? someone to raise me up high and be my cheer-leader, daddy, no, you lock me out —you don’t allow me near you—how can you see me?” and move away but he pulls me back as I fight him, “how can you see me when you are pretending and playing your games? I’m not at your disposal—“
“Duva—“
“You don’t see me, you stopped looking.”
“I never stopped,” he says
“You don’t even read my words anymore,” I say
“How would you know?”
but what I wish I could really understand is—what is it he is afraid of….? what I would see if he showed me his whole self —or of how he would feel showing it?
No comments:
Post a Comment