Stories

you come to me
with your head in your hands
stand on my doorstep
with your voice
soft and endearing
asking for vision
losing sight
of what’s meant to be
and wrong and right
how do I know?
when you still can’t see you coming to me
after all
asking to catch as you fall
I will
keep my distance
withdrawn and patient
I can offer my smile
in exchange for yours
and the reasons
never enough to notice
me resting quietly on your decisions
you come to me
ignoring
all you need
so cry for her
I’ll teach you how.