i'm in the corner
surrounded by my friends
You come rushing in
arms full - books, binders: school paraphernalia
and our eyes lock
one heart-shuddering moment
that ripples through my soul
and You trip.
Your shoe catches on the uneven floor
and You go down
papers flying; wind picking them up
sending them on their maiden flight
spiralling skyward
but gravity catches up
and there's no choice but to rain back down
You land hard.
flat on the ground
i'm so sorry.
the world froze
the whole world
and my fluidity solidified
unsure of my next move
no choreographer to provide direction
i am a broken clock -
as the circle around me titters -
incapable of any action
only emotion
scattering me to the paper-snatching wind
i'm so sorry.
i see now my duty to run over
help You off the ground
pick up Your things
but
would you have let me?
[February 28, 2007]
