He took all the credit for green lights and always finding just the right words,
simply sitting there waiting for him, dutifully, right
where she left them.
He had a knack, he knew shortcuts.
Her mind went both ways,
of him, to her, for him, for them and then
perhaps she never said it in the first place,
since it was always his ideas
that she will be thankful for later.
There is a debt to be repaid for a life saved,
there is monetary value in a useful thing,
and a proper place
she had never seen,
until he showed her the way
and locked the door on his way out
expecting her to be where he left her
whenever he returns in need
of more perspective, flavor and wit.
But one day she was gone.
He found her
empty of all things, she was smiling
with a faraway stare
and he felt anxious about his loss
not knowing any more about keeping places and sharp turns of phrase.
