Questions

i.
I want to hear about the bloody stupid
door that caught your foot on the way out - and the snow
sifting into the window-rim. I want to hear about
crystallization in the maple sugar jug, surprise candy when you pour it onto pancakes;

about tongue twisters and ripped paper, cap-less pens
at the bottom of your closet, the godsdamned mouse that wouldn't
click right -

about the wrong words

about stars that turned out to be satellites, swimming across
your horizon and tricking you into wasting
a perfectly good wish

about waking up at 1:32 AM, in calm and bemused silence as you
wonder at the oddity of your subconscious, slipping lower
into the coverlets...

ii.
We need to ask more questions, while we still
have the time. We never ask, never pry because
it would seem "impolite", "pushy"...

and the chance flips out, the second of invitation slides
into homework excuses and late night projects and -

we remain Silent, they remain Silent, it remains
Unsaid.

iii.
But You will never ask the right

questions, and We
will never tell until you do.