The Key to Love

December 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

Standing by your porch that night with my headlights shining bright behind

the flickering light outside the front door reminded me of you.

 

My hands were marred with age,

lines like wounds across my fingers and

in the midst of it all, where the lines

collided, where my life collided,

lay a tinker bell key that twinkled like fairy dust in the wind

like magic but to me.

Only.

To me.

 

You had tossed me the key in the middle of a car ride to nowhere,

where we watched the stars in a green field in the middle of night and

stole kisses in the back of my car when the rain began to rush down.

 

In the back of my head I always knew the truth,

even as I twirled the key in fingers like it was the key to happiness,

the key to life – no – the key to love, the love of my life as if there was ever

anything at all right about the way your windows were never illuminated for me,

that my doors were never open to you,

that the key – the key – was but another way to keep the truth from ourselves.

 

And in the flickering glint of the porch light I

could make out your silhouette like a whispered secret

across the window –

the key weighed down my aching, shaking fingers.

With the ring of the doorbell, I felt the leap of my heart.

With the sound of your footsteps, I felt my heart beat.

With the shattering of your heart, I felt my heart break.

 

I walked back to the porch where the light didn’t flicker anymore

and the shadow of her, the scent and breath and essence of her, covered the house like a blanket.

I wondered if she drove the car to nowhere, kissed you under the stars and in the back of her car

carelessly, as if the world did not matter, never mattered.

 

Sometimes I still drive to a green field to watch the stars by myself

and feel the loss of a key in my fingers and love in my heart because

Nothing glimmers like fairy dust and

there is no magic in the wind or the stars or the moon.

Inspired by this postsecret

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