In the gap between then and now, I ponder who gets to hold
her, to keep her company as she seeks to heal, not quite back to where she
started, maybe a little better off without the baggage she's always carried and
somehow this time managed to shed, if only I could float outside the six
windows that look in on her life to see what transpires there, now that she has ceased to the struggle, that
crippled her in the past, her shape moving through the rooms she might once
have considered a prison cell, from kitchen to living room to bedroom and back.
Do any of these windows show her in someone else's embrace,
that longing for and rarely fulfilled moment when she can feel at ease, head
against a shoulder, lips tilted for that everlasting kiss, leaning in that
leads to It, what she once had is no longer what she wants to have, is not yet
what she needs to have, different from what she thought she had then not now, with
The Gap unfulfilled in the middle as if she waits for something to drop down in
to the space and fill her up again
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