6/12/26

The wind sounds like a door being pried open and left to slam against itself, and I wonder how long it’s been waiting to come out and witness the light gleaming down onto buried lovers– has it only been a day? Enough time to make a decision. A week? Enough to go back on it. I’m shoved into a metaphorical doorframe that keeps me in place until the next gust is up and ready, and I don’t know who’s in charge but they clearly haven’t a clue what really goes on here– it’s a game, not a puzzle. All we’re ever trying to do is contribute to something bigger. That’s all anyone wants. Tying knots with your teeth and shoving bags into clammy hands is just as much a role as pumping the plastic out a day later. I’ll never know what it’s like to be the organ, but maybe I’ll have a chance at it when this guy declares a winner– you can tell he’s getting antsy so it won’t be long now. Don’t worry— the locks aren’t super sturdy, anyway. Just close your eyes until they call your name. I can hear the doors and the wind and I know it only lasts a second. It’s only ever a second. 

– ODH