It’s that time of the week when my heart packs favorite stuffies and heads out and away.
I quickly close your bedroom door so as not to see where you should, would be.
Picking out pajamas, dancing around naked, throwing dirty clothes on the floor and
requesting tiny kisses on your cheek.
I venture in only to deliver clothes, and I am smacked by your absence–the half of your
life of which I am deprived.
All across the neighborhood, the city, and beyond
are doors like yours, closed in haste with only superhero stickers
standing on guard as a reminder of who is missing.
I tread water in the in between.
Across the neighborhood, the city, and beyond, hearts ache and eyes avert
to not see the closed door.
CiaoBellaLessons 