this is the window to this box
locked with these keys.

peer over the edge, feel the depth with your mind. this is where we trap ourselves with seemingly innocent phrases, complete with twists and turns, walking the fine line between truth and lie, completely destroying pure honesty. 'not here. not now.' if not here, then where? if not now, then when? this is where you forget that we don't--we won't--not because we don't want to, perhaps, but rather because we lose perspective, refuse to focus, we find other things in view.
the sky,
the rain,
a cup of chai,
you, me, them.

*

this is the window to this box.
locked..but you're holding these keys.

have you forgotten? what's inside? it's been there all along. you captured it, then locked it in this box [with this window] so long ago. why? you don't remember.. it's not what you wanted, not what you wished, not what you imagined, not what you hoped. but whenever you need it, it is and will always be
yours.

*

the notes,
the letters,
the words,
the songs--
discarded, disregarded, disposed of and followed by long breaths without exhale.

i wonder if you mean
--if you know--
what you say.
do you hear your words as they become mine?
[not that i stole them..
you gave them to me.]

*

have you forgotten?
this window, this box,
this lock, these keys...

always remember--
this piece
is yours.