seeing
the toys thinking
it was safe to let go
and I look to my left
where he sits above and next
to me like stone and question mark
at the same time. his hand rubbing
across the folds at the top of his rippled face
as if he is pushing aside waves crashing against
his fingers, the way he does when he’s both tired and
without answers. but says go on. it’s okay. tell the doctor
what you told me