The History of an Engagement with φιλια (cont.)

Chapter III. When Love was Enough

I walked barefoot in the rain. He did not let me in. My “home” locked: the keys, misplaced, not in my pocket. I becoming a reflection of this incident. Following my last effort. The door hinge yawned until I saw your face. Without knowing much, I entered on frigid feet, under rain-fringed hooded hair. My bones heartsore. Your ξενια did not necessitate speaking. Your words becoming a blanket and hot soup. Sick for some singing, I was sick and wasn’t listening. In my recollection, I can finally read; your words a blanket and hot soup and letting me in. The warmth is just and it lingers. And when you left for class, you let me stay, and I was able to sleep.




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