I signaled for silence
by pressing my finger
to my lips.
I motioned to Holly for calm.
And to keep it to herself.
I could see the picture
in her narrow eyes
and crooked smile.
I rested my hands on my hips,
shifting my weight to my back foot.
Meeting her gaze serenely,
I knew which way to go.
I held on to a burning silence.
Holly played her part
and returned in November.
I should have known she’d come home.
The shame lies with me
for embracing the total contradiction
with the signs of her wanting me
around, destroy her pride,
and crawling back to me
satisfies her catalyst.
But I’m still here; I always have been.
I’m still the one Holly said
she needed last night
while she slept outside in her Jeep.
The fire’s going, so why not come in?
You don’t even have to say a word.