Knock Knock

Love came knocking on my door. I knew it was him. from the way he knocked. I could see him through the glass, and he could see me. I knew his face. His eyes, deep like the ocean, deep and vast, yet warm and welcoming. Penetrating. With folds of skin around them, like an old man would have; as if the skin wrinkled from their intensity. You couldn't tell their color, it is like peering into a bottomless pit that would never be full of seeing. I couldn't look into them.

He stood behind my door. I knew it was him. i knew him very well. i wanted to let him in but i didn't have a key. I signaled to him. He understood. He tried to find another entrance, the windows were locked. All was locked. I couldn't find the key. Everywhere i looked. But futily. I panicked. I screamed and shouted. I banged at the walls and the windows. He calmly tried to find a way in. Gently. Soberly. I blamed him. Why can't you come in? I screamed and shouted. I banged at the walls and the windows. I finally tried the door. It was still locked.


Exasperated but exhausted i collapsed behind the door. He sat on the front steps. His back to the door. And we both wept.