The Only Other One

I found myself here talking with heat at my ear. Words spill in selfish truth though I try to restrain. This could be an amazing time but I can't do it all for myself. She is the one that needs healing and love during these times. From which view do I send from? Friend? More? Less? I don't want to fall with those chains again. The threat frightens my heart. I have stepped on the stones that left me locked inside a place I can't control. Still this feels so much different than those past immaturities. I've controlled and listened and seen and held my spirit to restraint and sensibility. But now the remark of "I'm not sure anymore" screams through the strained concern. Excitement recreates a movement that could betray me. The switches click and she speaks to him. I bide and wait for the return message... I anticipate, I yearn. What will she spill onto the floor? What will I say in return? What will my desires cause amidst this? I hope the words I've heard from others will ring truthfully. She creates in me a calm and vigor. She brings me out and keeps me contained. She holds me to earth and lets me fly. But what else is there to do? I've got nothing left here, nothing to give away or lose. The breaking glass shot through my thoughts. Their glimmers taught me the moment's value. I lean down and forget my voice. I hide these thoughts for the time immediate. Maybe one day I can speak of these moments. Tell an ear that I trust. Hear her inside my words. But now my throat is locked. The only other thing I have is time. The only other one is a mystery.