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The place in between where you end and I begin
is becoming less and less visible to the naked eye
There used to be space enough for opinions
Objections
Ostentatiousness
And now there is no room, or else I am going blind
I have yet to decide if this new arrangement sits well with my soul
If I’m ok with scooting over a little,
unpacking some of my own things, thoughts,
and making space for you within my little niche of the universe I had carved out
with only room for one in mind
Your opinions take up a bit too much space in the dresser drawer in the back of my consciousness
and sometimes, at night, when I want to sprawl out,
I forget you are there in our twin bed, and we butt heads in the dark
Did we become one when I wasn’t looking?
Sew up the seams of our heart strings and throw away the key?
Just maybe this will be ok
Just maybe, if you let that last millimeter of my soul roam when it is feeling breezy
But with you I am more me, myself, and I
As though I didn’t know who I really was until you showed me who I really can be
How is it that one can go through life
feeling entirely whole
and then suddenly one night when you aren’t there
our twin bed feels like an ocean
When did my sock drawer become our sock drawer
And when did I become so absolutely ok with it?
Published by Alison Howe
7 years ago 
