…grant her access to my mind with a roadmap of what rooms not to open-
I would pick her up by her perfect waist and place her at my doorway,
I would swear to my god that her experience would end in accord after her exclaiming me a prophet,
There would no longer need a reason to speak,
I would no longer have to give her a sneak peak through the window in the foyer,
Her body would bow, we would grow, and her heart would finally genuinely know,
What I mean by unconditional.
She would find her solution hanging from the fixtures,
She would see the potential of her future in the pictures,
She would be able to recognize the scent in the home,
And never ever have to question the reason why I fear being alone.
She would probably laugh at the clutter of yesterday’s expectations-
While running through the hallway in a fit of desperation to find my final declaration…the reason.
I feel she would search for weeks,
Body broken and heels weak,
Starring at her surroundings until she reaches a mirror and falls to her knees,
She, the reason, controls the pictures on the walls,
Controls the smell of the home,
Controls the complex fear of being alone,
With three simple words.
We would exit in peace fingers braided,
With forever a possibility again.