The way, of course.
Your mind, your head,
your hope, your heart.
Face. Your footing. Virginity.
Shirt buttons. Coat buttons.
Breath. Bearings.
Balance. Your deposit.
Your dignity.
Respect. Perspective.
Quarters and pens
between the car seats.
Your accent. Your appetite.
My trust. Baby teeth.
Your innocence. Sunglasses.
Your job. Your cool.
Your shirt. Your gut.
Your grip. Your hair.
The key to the house.
The key to your car.
The key to staying calm
when something crucial is lost.
Like time. Like memories—
the ones in which we had no clue
just how much we had to lose.
Like our nerve. Like our fear.
Like this day, our only chance
to show up. Like this now,
our next chance to let go.
