Location

Where are you?

Posed as a question but more likely a statement.

Can't do the math in my head...can't do the GPS thing, the latitude or longitude.

Rather the simple response is you're in my head, on that shelf you occupy.  That space....that location, the room with the key that you have to jiggle in a certain way to get the lock to open.  The familiar...the frame.  You need not move, you need not change.

Outside of that, there is a world in flux.  A world that is sometimes chaotic...changing...issues and drama. Dealing with the razor cuts of just a world that is so embarrassingly different that I cannot describe the issues...

of...

the...

Day.

And then I fumble around for the key.  To unlock the door that opens the room.  To a shelf where I have put you.

Trust me there is no dust on this door.  It is frequented often...maybe too much.  Maybe increasingly due to those outside bits of weather that force me indoors.

Like rain on a parade...not like rain on a wedding day.

I hear that's good luck.  And right now that's in short supply.

So, I return...I sometimes talk out loud to you, other times I'm quite sure I ask you to guess.

The thought...the clear comfort in knowing that you are resident within my mind is quite often enough...that there is a you...that truly exists and that is outside the lines.  That there is a you that happens to be as exquisite as the very first time....that there is even a possibility of you for the very next time...

that our binding cords are visible, tangible, tactile and touchable.  There is no guessing what happens when we are within arms-reach.  There is no mystery of how this ends.

Rather it is the math equation of when that happens again...when the lines intersect.  When the conjoined makes its way from the past into the present.

I never need to guess your location.  It is rightfully and always where I can find it.

It's just the detail of when you jump off the shelf in my mind and can become a slight weight in my arms that makes it difficult.