He held my hand

As I stood out in the air,

Having showed my sexy,

And the room of people

having imploded,

He said,

“Only if it doesn’t interfere with your process”

And he reached out his hand, because he knew it was hard for me.

To be at once

seen

and

giving

into the face

of an implosion

that felt like it was about me.

He held my hand, because he knew it was hard for me.

To walk across the bridge that we’d laid down together.

And he suggested I walk up to the

Biggest man

and

“Ask [me] him”

“Is there something you need?”

I did.

And, he said,

“I think that’s all I need.”