VII Roads to Heaven

 

I began the day

lighter

than I’ve been in years—

hopeful.

But then you tugged,

and suddenly it flew open—

the closet door

where I’d stuffed away

the mess

I thought I’d hidden.

You wanted to be amused,

but I’ve outgrown

our recesses—

those brief,

shallow

hours

where I used to frolic.

This idea of me—

the fun one,

the persistent curiosity—

has dissolved

into steam.

A cloudy,

puffy,

congealing, 

certainty.

And when the time

and the air

are right,

the tears

will fall—

happily.

And I will have

a rainbow

to adorn myself.

A reminder of pain,

yes—

but with seven

little

roads

to heaven.