Most of the time the unknown is scary and blank
Very blank
And it is so sad
Not really,
just emotionless
and unexciting
But sometimes I look out windows
at houses lined up like tea light holders
And I think of well,
maybe, friendship
Not friendship–
understanding
Not understanding–
Synchronous empathy
and shared tea and cold coffee
under shared feelings
upon eyes gracing blue stars
on blankets beneath fingertips
palms on soft wrists making drawings
drawing hearts
hearts beating to drum beats echoed across the hall
multiplied shadows twirling against mint walls
hand penned letters
taped poetry on warm tin tuna lunches
seaweed salad and Snickerdoodle circles
arranging manuscript bars
dried lavender satchels behind double closet doors
laundry heat piping
filling the bedroom with warmth
rectangles and triangles on a wrinkled duvet
sky filled piano songs to stay
Safe and sturdy,
we always come home to a
See You
followed by
Later
It’s there because you never go
These are times when the unknown hits closer to home