She started making plans for how to handle what he’d never say.
Because she had said too much too soon and he’d left her words suspended in air.
Never catching them.
Never answering back.
And her words began to stumble over one another in their attempt to reach him.
And she knew that he had seen them by the way that he dodged them on his way out.
Covering his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to face them.
So she made a plan to collect the abandoned words and tie them tight to her chest.
So that they would find rest just across the threshold of her beating heart.
She’d cradle them there.
So that they wouldn’t forget where they came from.