Nestled between
Stimulus and response
An empty space
Where freedom
Is mine to take.
“Bam!” and there goes
My rush hour reverie
Turn around, and
He/she/it is gone
Close my eyes
And that space looms large
“It’s so unfa… Well it’s just a dent”
“I am gonna be la… Well I’m still alive”
“The repair will send me bro… Well thank God I am alive”
In that empty space
I have a large buffet.
Those red lips
That muscular tongue
All set to tear
In the guise of care
“The truth must hurt” she says
But really, every single time?
I smile at her, knowing
In that empty space
She has no say.
Come what may
Red-carpet walks
Or barb-wired fences
Sunny autumns
Or harsh winters
In that empty space…
At the possibilities, I smile.
