enjoy the blag

i thought she was her
and she is
but sometimes she forgets
and i wonder
and wander 

she says i’m not there for her
i picture her walking through a mansion
opening each door expecting to find me
there’s an 8x10 photo of me on the left pane
of each window in every room
i am nowhere to be found

she finally descends into the basement
the furnace is humming
the floor is cold, lifeless concrete
there are spiderwebs and dust heaps
an abandoned science project that smells of vinegar
bags of clothes intended for the salvation army

and a milk crate
where sits this very journal
in which i am now writing
it catches her eye
like the sighting of a nest
on an aimless stroll
she picks it up
contemplating her audacity
and finds herself
here on this very page

she feels she is being watched
she looks over her left shoulder
a ladybug sits there
she is now caught between these words
and an animal instinct that informs her of a predator
she realizes that i am there
somewhere

she skims through these words
for hints of my whereabouts

i love you 

“so what” she thinks
as she reads on
“where are you when i need you?
this is not a nurturing relationship
we’re not here for each other”

then why else are we here? 

she closes the book
frustrated
and walks towards the furnace
she slowly opens the door

i am there
lost in a vision
unable to decipher
the fire that burns me
from the page that writes me 

one thing i like about people having hundreds of friends on facebook is that they don’t notice when i delete them.