She wore him down .like a coat sticking out on a hot summer’s day .She worded him slowly, letter by letter . It took them time, it was their 25th anniversary He was left outside as she headed for the master bedroom ,He was left to guard their memories .He was a warden of their wore down words and worlds
Her closet was a mess .Like a storm, confused and fierce She lacked for words, it lacked for clothes Her closet was nearly empty and heavily used .It was an old closet with old rooms in it. It carried dream and hopes, it held memories of a lost childhood
.Every now and again he was sent to clean it, but nothing could clean away the years .Her closet was her closet and it was never going to get any younger .For 25 years they were running water against their rock of relationships .It takes the edges of things. It makes things safe and predictable .He could appreciate sharp edges, he missed them, and he missed the feeling of trying to avoid these sharp edges. This is what we do when we are young. We Try to avoid the rough edges. Then we when we’re older, we get use to their absence .Then when we’re old, we miss them