There's No Door

Like pulling water out of a deep well

You pulled words up from your mire of thoughts - the depths of your soul. 

There was a sort of unreachable quality in your speech

...as if you could not fully touch or hold your thoughts

Perhaps you could but chose not to.

And there was something you were wrestling with too. 

And a clarity too. A bright unvarnished clarity that people only know if they've known deep pain.

Yet also blindness. Obviously others could see what you saw. But they didn't. And you didn't see that they wouldn't.

Or you wanted there to be something and there wasn't.

So you wrestled, but with what I couldn't see. The battle was hidden from view.

I stared and wonder..what in the world you must be thinking. For you never said your thoughts aloud. Then I thought perhaps it was that you had nothing to say. 

And you didn't have anything to say. Not about the weather. Or food that day. Or what you planned to do. Only the unknown and unexplored.

Yet I've never wanted to go there much. Space is to big for fiddling with. 

And over and over you turn the cards. Flipping the thoughts over in your mind. The room still sits expectantly, to hear unspoken words that are never said.

I stare and see no ice. But then there's no door either. No door, no ice, no words, no path. A code? A puzzle. Yet codes must be cracked.

Of course to solve a code you need a key. I think perhaps then that's what you'd given me. Although it looked just like a word. A phrase, unintentional at first.

But that's often how puzzles are solved. Something that seemed unimportant, is the most important of all.