under the covers
like children,
we could build a fort,
line the insides with pillows
and innocence.
i lost this somewhere.
i tried to find my way back;
i wanted to explain,
to apologize.
but our language is
different now,
our tongues do not
meet as they once did.
yours is dry,
a language of
such bitter fruit.
mine is spliced,
and broken
with a lifetime of apologies
left unheard
and unanswered.
i’m returning,
i am under the covers,
gaining innocence
in the fort i’ve built.
like a child
i’m learning a new language,
one that no longer
only apologizes,
one that is
no longer boxed by
worries or shaped
by fears of losing you,
for it is you
who have lost me.