Places

Time is a convenient mediator, the unspoken assumption being that its passage has neutralized anything sour between us. And so we settle into this jovial repartee, the only difference is that our talk is more comfortable than ever. Why wouldn't it be? There is no longer room for anything to get better or worse. No more that indefatigable possibility of titillation or a chronic danger of offending the other. Instead, amusement is kept in its proper corner, quiet as a twitch of flesh at the corners of your mouth. It is better this way, I think. That you have sealed your fate with the constant even if you've unknowingly thwarted mine into the big wide open. I never liked enclosed spaces anyway. I can manage the dizzying turning and tumbling and freewheeling. As long as you stay in place.