Creator
Gloved hands held coffee hot
I leaned close to catch the words
It’s the start of every story
It is every tale I’ve ever heard
But still I listened closely
Searching for a sign
That the story you were telling
Might intersect with mine
And when the tale was finished
When I’d divined the real in you
I left heavy with your story
Even though your part in mine was through
I carried it so gently
I sheltered it from rain
On cold nights, it made me restive
Other nights, it caused me pain
I began to hide from stories
I would cover up my ears
The story of you could not hurt me
If I didn’t trouble myself to hear
But the storyteller in me resurfaced
She would not let me hide
She brought me all the stories
Then locked them all inside
Now they are part creation
And part every tale I’ve ever heard
Gloved hands still reach for coffee
But they also spin the words
