now I hate to say this and sound terribly sad but
I’m not surprised when people leave
I’m more surprised when they stay
I’m not trying to speak
of distrust or betrayal but instead
to the gift of loose fingers when letting go
humans are such temporary things
it’s inevitable that they keep moving
onward and outward
with or without you
I’ve learned to be undemanding
to remove the key from the lock
and the lock from the door
and the door from its hinges
until no one feels trapped here
people need to leave me
they need things I can’t give them
this is why I’m so bemused
when they stay by my side like
I’ve got something to offer
the gift of loose fingers [poem]
