Hands Open

She didn’t know why you would have asked her. She didnt understand what prompted to you to put it out there, sowing seeds of confusion and peculiarity in your wake. You spread the paste on the walls and demand

How do you teach your heart to cry?

What she didn’t fully understand was the movement afterwards. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as if he was guilty, a look of delicate fragility laced between his eyebrows as they bunched together, scowling at how lost he was. He wasn’t used to not being in control and such showed in how he held himself, but she wasn’t accustomed to this sudden, strange responsibility either that hit like a knife between her shoulder blades.

She suddenly felt her eyes unfocus and peer instead at something far in the distance. It was an azure blue sky and between two thin clouds that reminded her of his eyebrows, glided a seagull searching the water below for fish. It hovered in the air twitching feathers only to alter it’s direction ever so slightly. It was detached from the earth, free to be where it wished.

You have to break it first.

Love. Be loved. Maybe it will be taken, maybe it will not. Who is really to say?