Saturday Scribbles: To Tell You

The Existential Tourist

To Tell You

last night
we talked on eggshells
and circled
into nowhere
I tried
to tell you my emotion
but
words split like ice
and melted to tiny drops
what am I trying
to tell you
that I'm not saying?
it's just a turn
on this madly spinning carousel
(I chose a horse named Silence) -
when it stops whirling, and
when I'm weakened with recognition
of my futilely frantic search
will you be there
please
to help me off?
because I want you there
or I need you there
or both
but who am I
to tell you?

© Barbara Ann Black, 2010-2011