Time and Space

I can't decide if I have things to say or if I just have so much to feel, and there is no other option but to spill out of lips, onto paper, over keyboards, into space. I think it's always been this way. Undecided but found, and still unknown. Or is it so deeply known, it's only fun to pretend otherwise.

Tonight I caught my reflection in my wedding ring, the entirety of my shape. I was pleased with what I saw, surprised to have found myself there at all.  What sounds regretful is anything but. Swans dive the only way they know how, and like them, I was made to plunge into the present, leaving nothing for tomorrow. And when two become one, there is a fine line, or none at all. Seven years later I notice the width of such adequate space, just for me between his silver and my gold. My ring was made, quite literally, just for me. I wonder if it is symbolic or just coincidence, and like a wise diplomat I concur that it is probably both.

I've stared at these hands for as long as I can remember and all those years ago I wondered what today would feel like. Today was just as unknown as now, but here there are names and places, and confusing slivers under fingernails, that only happened this once. There are soggy socks from morning downpours of polluted potions reminding me I am still alive. There is burnt popcorn suffocating, before or after my comfort I cannot say, under charcoal covered couches, where little girls read books, and watch shows I reluctantly oblige. These details were faceless, and nameless and now they found and spoken for. I am so glad these hands are still mine.

I have rotated this ring around my metatarsal more times than the sun has swiveled around my spine, and still we here, and still we are young. But now there is more space. It's more likely this space was always there, I just couldn't see it.  Such an irregular space between his silver and my gold. Imperfectly perfect, handmade and flawed, and just enough space for my continuous shape. I guess I could say, my guts spoke louder than my age, when my head and heart spontaneously chose a lifetime of fixed transfiguration .