Ours and Ours Only
We’ve been talking too much, trying to take a lifetime of sensations and send them across the table. Trying to use written words to send feelings across the sea, feelings we ourselves don’t even understand. From a place behind these shutters that keep our eyes from drying to the place behind someone else’s. A house we drive by wondering what the floorplan looks like. Waving up the walkway to figures in a window and cautiously wishing to come inside but having all sorts of trouble with the locks. Finding again and again that these dusty stacks are ours and ours only, all we have.
Fragile yet unbreakable.
Walking home Gareth was laughing like a madman in the quiet street. The others were back at the corner store buying playing cards and beer and we were talking about a surprise party. Destin was waiting in his truck with Brad. We spoke briefly but enough. It was getting late but we were just getting started. We went through twelve sides of four LPs, flipping and switching between hands. There was talk of old and new, talk of things we regretted at the time but cherish now. Talk of people and only people. We only looked at the clock when it was all said and done and the tired coffee table told its story in cards and empty bottles.
Nobody else has this. Everybody else has this.