R.M. Dolin, December 3, 2024
There’s a freedom in writing late night
when you won’t respond allowing me
the freedom to think about tomorrow.
Your straight-line smile
as I open the door. The tender way
my fingers flow through strands
of hair hiding your hesitant eyes.
The reticent way you reveal your story.
You seem so bold and confident
as we settle on the couch to cuddle
making every effort to mask
a sudden uncertainty.
An awkwardness that breathes
into every breath as it nervously
avoids each reveal.
Then the tables turn as you ask
about me. You never ask
about me. Perhaps from fear
of tarnishing what could be.
But now you do and then
we must decide.
How will we?
That’s the dangerously dicey question
when we meet.
From the R. M. Dolin novel, “An Unsustainable Life.” Issac pensively imagines his upcoming rendezvous with Gabriella as he stands behind his bar, alone in a room full of people. He’s far from confidant about his decision to leave the comfortable confines of Chicago for the wilderness of Northern New Mexico and is attempting to quantify the consequences; particularly what it means for his relationship with Gabriella who increasingly feels like someone from a distant world. Written north of Detroit as I watch an early winter storm blow snow across my lakefront window in the predawn darkness.
