Worry and Comfort ~ Jake Reynolds
Worry moors at door creaks, beds dead weights on floors, hinges downstairs heaving: sound of someone leaving.
a fugitive, born in taking out the bins, children quiver at squares of cold air. this is fear. this is
sweat before beading. thunder-grumbles trump pining bellies, starved on darkness, louder
than a heart. you see them already running,
laughing, hands plaited in furnace-finger figurines
before you even learnt how to tie a tie or turn the house off at night. in dreams kerbs elude you,
screams escape as mews yet love returns like fever, scoops you in its arms, offers leverage: a totem or
token of i-won’t-go. you learn the world is divided into two: the Comfort and the Worry.
the bet: love will not leave home.
wagers weighted on open palms:
1) words parcelled in a promise. 2) a wallet teeming with paper greens: a new kind of solace.